You Can't Run Away From You
by dragonmactir
Summary: Loghain Mac Tir and Elilia Cousland have a new world to conquer. Takes place immediately after Origins from the standpoint of the same origin as "The Return," only Duncan went to Orzammar instead of Highever. Crosses over into Dungeons and Dragons, other Final Fantasy titles, Harry Potter, and more.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Dragon Age, Final Fantasy, _etc, or any of its related characters. This is just for my own enjoyment and the potential enjoyment of other fans like me, and no monetary gain was expected or received.

**Rating: **T+

**Spoilers: **May contain spoilers for _Origins_, _Origins_ DL content, and _Dragon Age II _as well as the novels _The Stolen Throne _and _The Calling_. May also contain spoilers for _Final Fantasy XII_, _Final Fantasy XIII_, _Final Fantasy XIII-2_, _Dungeons and Dragons_, and Harry Potter.

**A/N: **Totally AU, this fic starts out immediately after the events of _Origins_, and crosses over from the world of Thedas to the world of Ivalice, from _Final Fantasy XII_. The Dark Ritual was not performed, Loghain made the ultimate sacrifice, Anora is queen, and a male Warden Aeducan is Commander of the Grey. I will strive to make it so you don't have to be familiar with the various crossover worlds to understand the story.

* * *

**Chapter One: Reborn in Rabanastre**

"Well, there's a sight. Tied one on last night, didn't you? You'd better get along home, young man, before the city guard finds you. Going about the city starkers will find you in gaol for certain."

Loghain heard the voice, a woman's, but for a few moments more, he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. The darkness was comforting after the brilliant light of the Archdemon's soul, and he wasn't ready to see what came after.

He felt a not-too-gentle push on his shoulder. "Come on, young man, you can't lay about here. Get up, now. You'll catch your death, in that cold water."

Cold water? Maker's ass, he _was_ in cold water. Shocked by the realization, he jerked and fell into deeper water, almost deep enough to close over his head when his bare ass hit the bottom. He struggled to get his feet under him and stand. His eyes took in his surroundings for the first time, a walled city plaza he did not recognize. How in the Maker's holy name did he end up naked in a strange city?

"Easy, lad," the woman said. "Rough night, wasn't it? You're not the first scoundrel to sleep it off naked in the city fountain, I'd wager. One of your good for nothing friends stole your clothes, didn't they? It's a long wet walk through the city streets for you."

Loghain looked around himself wildly, and finally his ice-blue eyes settled on the face of the woman who prodded him. She shuddered involuntarily, as if a goose had walked over her grave.

"Where am I? Is this Denerim? It can't be," he said.

She took a defensive step back. "I don't know where Denerim is, young man. This is Rabanastre."

"Rabanastre? There's no such city in Ferelden."

"You're not making any sense. You better get on home now. Go on, get. I haven't got time to stand around swapping nonsense with naked men." She backed further away from him and then turned and fled, not at a run but with a quick step regardless. Loghain climbed out of the fountain and dripped on the gray slate flagstones for a moment as he tried to get his bearings. To the east, or what he thought was east, the sky was pink but the sun was not yet over the city wall. He didn't know where he was or how he'd come to be there, but he knew one unassailable fact: he was naked. To stand around in the altogether and wait for the city guard to show him to gaol seemed not the best idea.

There was a narrow outlet or alleyway not far from where he stood. He headed in that direction, and his flat feet left triangular wet patches on the slate and yellow brick cobbles of the plaza. He did not know what he hoped to find; a towel, a pair of trousers, Denerim, or the Warden and his companions. Any one of those things would be welcome.

He should be dead. The fact that he was not troubled him more perhaps even than the dislocation. At least, he thought he was not dead. He felt very alive, and if this was the afterlife, it was a damned peculiar one. Could be a Fade dream, he supposed, like those dreams he sometimes had where he fought in pitched melee stark naked. Perhaps that final battle against the Archdemon was nothing more than another dream, and he was still in Redcliffe castle in wait for the morning sun to march to Denerim. The idea had its attractions.

The outlet led to a wider street lined with shops built into the city walls. He stood in the alley and peered down it, desperate to see something familiar, but everything was strange to him. Strange construction, strange signage, and what people there were, strange people. A few shopkeepers prepared to open for the morning, with brooms to sweep stoops and displays to tempt passersby, and one of them was a seven-foot lizard creature with red scaly skin, a thick tail, and four long, floppy ears, and another was a round-bellied porcine being with tusks. This couldn't be a dream. He'd never known the demons of the Fade to get particularly creative with him.

"Odds bodkins, man, what are you doing over there? Come inside before the guard catches you. What happened? Were you robbed?"

Loghain looked to see another lizard creature, this one blue and stooped with age, which stood on the step of the nearest shop and gestured him inside. He had but few options, so he followed the creature into the store. Glowing orange crystals hung on the walls and lit the shop inside. He wondered if it wasn't a sort of lyrium, and he wondered how people kept it from poisoning them if it was.

The creature continued to talk, its voice as growly and male as could be. "Come in, lad, come in. Let me get you something to dry yourself with, and a pair of trousers for you to wear. Here's a towel, lad. What happened to you? You don't look like you were beaten, so that's a mercy."

Loghain dried himself off. "I really don't know what happened, Ser," he said. "I woke up naked in the fountain in the plaza. I swear I was not drunk."

The creature disappeared into a back room and returned in a few minutes with a pair of buff-colored breeches made out of some soft, airy material Loghain didn't recognize. "Here, lad, put these on. So you weren't drunk, eh? Then how did you come to be in this sorry state?"

The creature handed Loghain the trousers and he pulled them on. The waist was too large by half, which meant he had to hold them up, but at least he was covered. "I don't know, Ser. I don't even know where I am. A woman in the plaza told me this city was Rabanastre. I know of no such city."

"I'll get you a belt for those, lad. So you woke up naked in a city strange to you? Odd circumstances, lad, and no mistake, though oddly familiar to me. What's the last thing you remember before waking?"

Loghain gave out with a humorless snort. "I remember dying. At least, that's what it seemed like."

The creature wrung its hands. "I think you'd better sit down and explain, lad."

"I suppose it warrants some explanation at that," Loghain said, and lowered himself into a chair. "Tell me, do you know aught of darkspawn here?"

"Can't say as we do," the creature said.

"Then you are fortunate. They are an evil scourge. My homeland was beset by these creatures, led by a tainted dragon called an Archdemon. I slew the creature, and its soul passed into my body. I was _supposed _to die. It felt like death, as near as I've ever come to it. That I seem to be alive now is worrisome. If I'm alive then perhaps the Archdemon is, too. If so, then my nation remains in grave danger."

"I confess I don't know quite what to say about a story like that, lad. It seems to me, though, that you may be right when you say you died. You could be Mist-born. It's a rare thing, but sometimes the gods pluck a soul from the realm of death and give it new life. That might explain why you ended up in the fountain. The energies associated with such things are drawn to water, and this is the desert. There isn't much," the creature said. "Why, just last year I pulled another poor soul naked from the fountain at daybreak. It seems to be 'the' spot for Mist-born folk around these parts, not that I've known it to happen more than twice before."

"Riordan said my soul would be destroyed by the soul of the Archdemon," Loghain said, doubtfully.

The creature laughed. "I don't know what an Archdemon is, but that seems a foolish thing to say to my ear. The soul is eternal; only the physical shell can be destroyed. You can't unmake the Maker's creation."

"That…makes sense," Loghain said. "It isn't like the Wardens could truly _know _what was happening when the Archdemon was slain, only that the Warden that did it invariably ended up dead. But I don't understand; what is it to be 'Mist-born' exactly?"

"I don't know that I'm the man to explain it to you exactly," the creature said. "I'll do my best. The Maker makes our souls, but He is gone from this world, they say. The other gods cannot create new souls. What they can do is take our souls from the realm of death and give them rebirth. Most of the time that happens in the natural way, with a mother and a father and a little newborn babe. Sometimes, though, the gods have a specific purpose in mind for someone. They take the Mist - the magical energy that infuses this world - and they shape it into a new physical form to house a soul. You could be brought back at any age, and I have to say, you look quite literally 'any age' to me. I can't tell if you're twenty or fifty."

"I'm fifty-four, but you can be damned sure I look every minute of it."

"You look very mature, but there's not a line in your face," the creature said. "Here, let me find a hand mirror, you can see for yourself."

The creature disappeared into the back room again and returned with a belt and a hand mirror. Loghain put the belt on before he looked into the silvered glass. The face he saw in the mirror was recognizably his, with the same sallow skin, the obstinate chin, the monumental nose, the thunderous brow. Nevertheless, it was as the creature said; there were no lines in his face, not until he put them there with a scowl at his own reflection. He laid the mirror aside, uncertain how to take what he saw there.

"If I died, if I was…_reborn_, here…then perhaps my death served its intended purpose, though I don't know what's to stop the Archdemon from coming back if I can."

"This Archdemon, you're afraid it's come back to life?" the creature asked.

"That's what happens, when the Archdemon dies. Its soul passes into a darkspawn and the creature is reborn. When a Grey Warden kills it, both die, and the Archdemon doesn't return."

"What's a Grey Warden?" the creature asked.

"A warrior, tainted by the same corruption as the darkspawn. I suppose, if I am truly reborn, then I no longer am one of them. I don't feel the sickness, though with no darkspawn about that may not be telling."

"What's your name, Sir?" the creature asked.

"Loghain Mac Tir," Loghain said.

"My name is Migelo," the creature said. "I have to open my shop soon, but you're welcome to stay here and dry off. Once I've opened, I can put some of the local children to watch the place while I help you find your way around. There are a few nu mou in the city, they know more about the gods and their purposes than most anybody, they could probably answer your questions better than I. The problem is finding them. I should probably also take you to the office of the City Registrar. I know this isn't your home, but you may well be living here for the foreseeable future, so you can't go unregistered. They won't ask too many questions."

"I'd appreciate the help. In all my life, I only left my homeland once. Finding myself lost in a strange new place at my time of life is…disconcerting, to say the least."

Migelo bustled around to get things in order for the day and Loghain got up and parked himself in a corner of the sales floor. He leaned up against the wall with his feet crossed at the ankles and watched the goings-on. Migelo talked while he worked.

"Tell me about your homeland, Loghain. Where is this place?" he asked.

"Ferelden, in the south of Thedas."

"Where's Thedas?" Migelo asked.

Loghain snorted. "You don't know? Then neither do I. It seems I may have come farther than I thought. Thedas was all the world I knew."

"Our world is called Ivalice, and it is composed of many nations. This particular one is Dalmasca. Tell me about Ferelden. What is it like there?"

"Cold," Loghain said. "But beautiful, in its way. Some of the finest farmland in Thedas."

"Dalmasca is very different. Here it is hot and dry, and little farming can be done. Do you have family?"

"A daughter."

"Grown?" Migelo asked.

"Yes."

"She won't feel the loss of you so keenly, then. She can take care of herself."

"Probably better than ever I took care of her," Loghain said.

"She'll miss you, though."

"Possibly true. My girl is a practical woman above all things, however, and she'll find a way to turn my death to her political advantage," Loghain said.

"She's a politician?" Migelo asked.

"Consummately," Loghain said.

"You must be proud of her," Migelo said.

"I am."

"What's her name?"

"Anora."

"That's a pretty name. Does she look much like you?"

"Not even slightly, thank the Maker."

Migelo chuckled. "I suppose no man wants his daughter to favor him too much in appearance. Were you involved in politics, too?"

"Not by inclination, but yes."

"You said you were one of these warriors, these 'Grey Wardens.' I still don't quite understand what they are. They suffer from a sickness?"

"The darkspawn corruption is virulent. Grey Wardens take that corruption in, and if they survive the experience, they become able to sense nearby darkspawn and slay the Archdemons. The sickness is always fatal sooner or later; Grey Wardens are merely those few who prove resistant to it."

"It sounds a terrible fate. Why would you choose to do something like that to yourself?" Migelo asked.

"I didn't."

"You contracted this illness accidentally?"

"No. I was sentenced to take the Joining when I was defeated in honorable combat by a Warden. I didn't trust the Wardens; I didn't see their purpose. I opposed them, and I failed. They treated me remarkably kindly, all things considered. They gave me the chance to atone for my mistakes."

"It sounds as if there's a lot to this story you're not telling," Migelo said.

"Sorry, I'm not much of a story-teller," Loghain said. "If you need the details I couldn't even begin to know how to give them to you. I suppose what you should know is that I left my king and half my army to die for fears he'd allow a hostile country entrance past our borders, and in trying to pull the nation together against the threat I perceived from that quarter I nearly tore it apart, and allowed the darkspawn to run rampant over the countryside for the better part of a year. I also sold poor Ferelden citizens into slavery to fund my campaign against the nobles who opposed me. So you see I'm not worthy of your kindness, Ser."

Migelo paused in his work, and hovered uncertainly over a display of embroidered handkerchiefs. "Well I…don't know what to make of what you've told me, Loghain. All I can say is that I can't really pass judgment when I don't know the whole story, and not from secondhand, so I'll remain kind until such time as you prove yourself unworthy of it."

"I…thank you, Ser. I'll try not to," Loghain said. "I did evil things, but I am not an evil man."

Migelo busied himself about the shop and spoke no more until a young blonde-haired human girl of perhaps fourteen or fifteen years of age came through the door.

"Good morning," she said, all bright smiles and sunshine. "Need me today, Migelo?"

"Ah, Penelo! Yes, you're just the girl I was hoping for. I have some things to tend to this morning, so I was hoping you'd watch the store for me while I'm gone," Migelo said.

"You can count on me," she said. Her eyes flicked to the back of the store and landed on Loghain. "Oh, hello. Are you a friend of Migelo's?"

"Penelo, this is Loghain. Loghain, this is Penelo, one of the local children. Her parents are gone so I kind of look out for her. Loghain is new in the city and doesn't know his way around, Penelo, so I'm going with him to sort things out this morning and get him situated," Migelo said.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Sir," the girl said.

Loghain nodded at her, and hoped the gesture passed for friendly. The girl didn't look much like Anora, not in the particulars, but she reminded him of her all the same, and he felt the first true wave of homesickness wash over him at the sight of her. Her blonde pigtails made her look younger than her years, and put him in mind of the little girl who'd run to his arms after a long day. He swallowed the lump in his throat and affected to look nonchalant.

Penelo installed herself behind the counter of the store and Migelo gestured to Loghain. "Come, my man. The Registrar won't be open quite this early, but most everything else will be. I'll give you a tour of the city so you know your way around."

Migelo showed him the east end of the city, where they were. Amal's Weaponry was a shop of some interest, and then there was Panamis's Protectives on the other side of the street, down from Migelo's Sundries store. Loghain assumed that was an armor smith's, and it piqued his interests as well. Of course, with neither a weapon nor armor, he would be hard-pressed to earn enough money to buy either, but there must be some work for a strong back in this city. He wasn't too proud to turn his hand to manual labor.

"And there's Yugri's Magicks," Migelo said, and pointed to a building that sat in the middle of the street, where the road to made a jog. "Best place in town for spells and charms."

Loghain did a double take. "It's a magic shop? Selling real magic?"

"Of course. They don't have such things in your homeland?"

"Magic is dangerous."

Migelo laughed. "So is a knife. Most people are taught not to handle them by the pointy end."

"Do you mean to say you don't regulate your mages here?" Loghain asked.

"Of course we do," Migelo said. "You have to certify in each spell you buy before you can license it. Yugri's can take care of all that for you, they provide certification training when you purchase a new spell."

"You speak as if everyone can use magic," Loghain said.

Migelo laughed. "Everyone _can," _he said. "I take it it's not that way in your homeland?"

Loghain shook his head. "Mages are rare, and dangerous. They run the risk of demonic possession. You don't have to worry about that, here?"

"Can't say as I've ever heard of it happening," Migelo said. "Mind you, the Mist is dangerous. Where it runs thickest the gods shape it into some mighty fiends. But I've not heard of anything that can take over the mind of a person."

Loghain shook his head again, for a different reason. "What Ferelden could do if all her people could use magic and not worry about demons."

"You should learn some magic," Migelo said. "You're a warrior; it will come in handy, no doubt."

There was a laugh in Loghain's voice when he spoke. "I can't use magic," he said.

"Maybe you couldn't, but I'd bet good money you can now. You're made up of Mist, if you truly are Mist-born; you've probably got a powerful lot of it stored up in you. You might find yourself capable of working powerful magics. It all depends on the Mist, you see, and willpower. How much Mist you've got stored away inside determines how much magic you can cast and how powerful the spells you can use, and willpower determines how effective those spells will be."

Loghain grew thoughtful as he considered the possibility that he was now a mage. Magic had always made him nervous, even as it impressed him with its usefulness. The lack of demonic influence made it easier to accept, but he still felt a minor tremble of fear at the thought that he might now have the power to call forth fire from the air or other such nonsense. There were no people he trusted with such power, not even himself. Still, it was a tool. He would be foolish not to put it to use.

"I'll see about learning some magic once I have a job and can afford it," he said. "My first priority will have to be to purchase some clothes of my own, however."

Migelo laughed. "Yes, I can see that. Come on, there's much still to show you."

There was a young human man, maybe thirty years of age, outside of the next door, which featured a patio with tables and chairs set up in the open air. He put out a large green signboard advertising the day's specials. The man straightened up from his task and greeted Migelo by name.

"Ho there," he said. "What are you doing out of your shop this morning, Migelo?"

"Hello Tomaj," Migelo said. "Just showing our fair city to a new arrival. Tomaj, meet Loghain. Loghain, this is Tomaj. He owns the Sandsea, which you see before you. Best food in town, no question."

"Well met, Loghain," Tomaj said, and offered his hand. Loghain shook with him. He was a little surprised that the man made no sign that his bare-chested condition was in any way unusual. In Ferelden, a man not at hard labor with his shirt off was viewed askance. Tomaj and, he realized now, Penelo, seemed to take it as a matter of course.

"We've got fresh cockatrice in from Giza, Migelo," Tomaj said. "Perhaps you'll stop by later and partake?"

"Mm, that does sound good. Perhaps after our business is concluded this morning we'll swing 'round and stop for a bit," Migelo said. "Penelo is watching the store, and I trust her."

"I'll see you later, then," Tomaj said. "Nice to meet you, Loghain."

Tomaj went inside the tavern and Migelo waved an arm to the building across the street. "That's Batahn's Technicks. In there you'll find a selection of special magics that don't use up your Mist. I don't know much about them myself, but I know hunters and soldiers swear by them. They're generally more expensive than regular magics, and maybe a little bit harder to learn, but it might be worthwhile for you, eventually."

Migelo then proceeded to show him the north end of town, which was mostly high-class residences and city administration buildings, and the Muthru Bazaar, an open-air marketplace that already bustled with merchants setting out wares and early-morning browsers. Then Migelo proceeded to show him Lowtown, where the common folk lived. A miserable dark underbelly of an otherwise very nice city, in Loghain's opinion. Close to the sewers, the place had a stench to it, despite the fresh water and large canvas mill fans that turned in the middle to freshen the air. The stonework shocked him. Even down here in the slums, there was intricate tilework and stones were stacked with an eye to decoration more than pure function, with grand archways and ornate flying buttresses. Granted, down here, the stonework was in generally poor repair, but the initial effort and expense to build this city, even the meanest part of it, amazed him.

"Well, that's our city," Migelo said, as they climbed up out of the south sprawl of Lowtown to the fresh air of the Southgate courtyard. The sun was well up, and illuminated the desert visible at the open end of the area. "There's not much left to show you other than the gates, I suppose, and they all look pretty much the same as this, with gate crystals and chocobo corrals."

"What's a chocobo?" Loghain asked, but he could see the corrals and the large yellow birds inside them.

"_That's _a chocobo," Migelo said, and pointed to the birds.

"You mean to say people actually ride those things?" Loghain asked.

"Sure. A lot of other places in Ivalice prefer velocycles and such contrivances, but here in the desert, the sand clogs up the works and they crash. Plus there's the mimic germinate clouds, quite thick in these parts, that rust up metal left exposed to the elements. We stick to chocobos."

Loghain didn't know what a velocycle was, either, but chose not to ask. Instead, he nodded his head at a tall orange crystal that stood on the opposite side of the courtyard. "What's that thing?" he asked.

"Gate crystal," Migelo said. "That one's special, because you can use it to teleport. I suppose you don't have such things in your homeland. It's a little hard to explain, but if you've touched one of these stones, it will remember you forever. Then if you have something called a teleport stone in your possession and you fuse it to the side of the crystal, you'll be sent instantly to any other teleport crystal you've touched, just by thinking about it. It's a great way to get around, but you've got to do some traveling to find other teleport crystals. They're not as common as the ordinary blue gate crystals. Both of them will heal you of pretty much any wound or magic-induced ailment."

"Common magic and instantaneous travel," Loghain said. "I truly am in a different world. What is it made out of, that it can do such things?"

"It's magicite. Same stuff we use to make sunstones and skystones."

"Is it…poisonous? Back home, we have a magic stone, lyrium, that has the power to amplify magics, but it's deadly in its raw form and dangerous refined."

"Magicite is safe enough," Migelo said. "Though they say it was magicite caused the explosion that destroyed Nabudis and left the area a Mist-riddled wasteland. I don't know what kind of stone could have done such a thing, though. Oh, I should tell you about the one unique feature of the westgate courtyard, while I'm thinking of it. That's where you'll find the aerodrome."

"What's an aerodrome?"

"That's where our skyships berth."

"Skyships? Do you mean…flying…_ships?"_

"Yes. Another innovation you don't have back home? It's magicite, makes it possible. Skystones. They make things float. There's a whole continent, Dorstonis, that flies in the air thanks to the magicite buried in its mines."

"A flying _continent?_ My imagination strains."

"You'll have to travel there sometime," Migelo said. "Bhujerba is the capital city. A beautiful place. Excellent wine."

Migelo looked up at the sky. "I judge the Registrar's Office is probably open by this time," he said. "We should head that way, get you situated. You should probably apply for citizenship. You were born here, after all."

"Not exactly," Loghain said, uncomfortable. "I'm not sure I'm ready to go so far as to declare citizenship."

"You don't have to declare an Oath of Fealty or anything," Migelo said. "It just opens up your options as far as employment. You can't join the army unless you're a citizen, and the city guard prefers to hire citizens as well."

"I suppose I have to be a citizen of somewhere," Loghain said, not without some reluctance. "Even if I could find a way home, I'm none too sure Ferelden would have me back."

Migelo clapped him on the shoulder. "I don't know if you'll ever see your homeland again, my friend, but this place you've fetched up isn't so bad. But surely, if you did manage to find a way home, they'd accept you back?"

Loghain sighed. "My daughter is queen; I'd not be an exile. But she's better off without me. I don't doubt that she mourns me, but I'd be very surprised if she didn't feel more than a touch relieved that I'm gone. At the very least, she's out from under my eye."

"Your daughter is queen? So then…were you a Lord?"

"Once. No longer. I can't say I don't prefer it this way. I wasn't born to it and I was always ill-suited to it."

"My Lord!" Migelo said, eyes huge. "I had no idea."

"Don't," Loghain said. "Just don't. I didn't carry the title with me into death: I lost it when I lost to the Warden. I am now as I was born: a peasant. I was never a lord of your land in the first place."

"Even so," Migelo began, but Loghain cut him off firmly.

"No. It's better this way. Let's find this Registrar. If I'm going to sign my body and soul over to this new place, I'd like to have done with it."

"I'm sorry if I've caused offense to you," Migelo said.

"You didn't," Loghain said. "I just…I never did get used to hearing people call me 'milord.' Now that it's no longer true, I'm quite happy to dispense with the title."

Migelo led him back to the north end of the city and they found the Office of the City Registrar just opening. Therein Loghain signed papers that made him an official citizen of Dalmasca, with all the rights and privileges thereof, and all he had to do was say he was Mist-born. The Registrar used a technick to prove that he was, in fact, no more than two hours old. And that was that. No muss, no fuss, no bother, and if he felt like a traitor inside, what of that? They branded him such anyway, for doing what he thought no more than his duty. And it wasn't as though he was signing away all hope of ever seeing Ferelden again. If there were a way to return, he'd find it, no matter to what he would go back.

The registrar issued him a license board. Loghain didn't immediately understand the purpose of it until he explained.

"In order to legally equip arms and armor, and to use magics, you have to have the proper license," the Registrar said. "You start out with two basic licenses, able to equip light leather armor and shortswords and daggers. You earn license points to buy new licenses by hunting. If you never hunt, you won't need more than the basic licenses, though you can train to use magics without hunting and it's always a good idea to learn a basic healing spell at least. If you are interested in earning more license points and equipping better gear, there's plenty of hunting in the region hereabouts. Mist-born fiends roam the desert, and they're bold and dangerous. Those who keep the caravan routes open by clearing out these fiends are always well compensated for their efforts. Most average game is worth only one license point apiece, but some rare or difficult beasts are worth a number of points on their own. There's also special equipment you can license that makes your kill worth double the license points, up here in the accessories section. Simple items, with basic natural enchantments, like wolf fangs and such, don't require licenses to equip as accessories, only special items with special high-grade enchantments."

"All right, but how do I prove how many license points I've earned before I purchase a license?" Loghain asked.

"The license board is magic, and will keep track of your points for you. Your number is up here in the top left corner, next to your name," the Registrar said. "As long as you have the required number of points, you may purchase any license on the board. A tip, if you intend to hunt: aim for the augmentation blocks. Each one you purchase confers some enchantment to you automatically, which will be active as long as you bear your license board in your possession. A tremendous boost to your strength and overall health."

"Thanks for the tip. I'll keep it in mind for the future," Loghain said, and he and Migelo left the office.

"Well, I don't know about you, Loghain, but I'm getting hungry," Migelo said. "What say we go to the Sandsea and have some breakfast? If you've never had cockatrice before you're in for a treat."

"I don't have any coin," Loghain said.

Migelo laughed. "It's my treat, of course. Consider it a 'welcome to Rabanastre' present, if you must."

"I…suppose I could do that," Loghain said, though it would always be uncomfortable to accept what felt like a handout. He was already beholden to Migelo for the loan of his pants. He followed reluctantly as Migelo led him back to the tavern.

There were a few early-morning breakfasters on the tavern's patio, who ate and drank from steaming cups of something Loghain didn't recognize that smelled strongly and pleasantly. Inside there were more diners, at tables set out above and below the bar. There were trees in the tavern, small palms in decorative planters. Loghain had never seen a tree indoors before. They found a table on the lower floor and Tomaj came over to take their order.

"Two of the day's specials," Migelo said, "and a cup of coffee for me. What about you, Loghain? Coffee or tea?"

"Is it coffee that smells so wonderful?" he asked. "I'll try a cup of that."

"Coming right up, gentlemen," Tomaj said, and disappeared through a curtained entry behind the bar.

Migelo folded his hands on the tabletop. "Well, I've been asking a lot of questions, but I expect you've got many of your own," he said. "You're not like the last Mist-born person I met, who was so shocked by the transition to our world she would speak not at all for the first few days. Ask away, and I'll answer as best I can."

Loghain could only think of one question for the time being. "Don't take this badly, but where I come from we have humans, elves, dwarves, and the occasional Qunari," he said. "I've never seen someone like you before. What is your race?"

"I'm a bangaa. I suppose I come as something of a shock to you if you've only ever seen peoples that look roughly hume. Dwarves and elves we have in these parts, though few elves in the desert, but I've never heard of a Qunari. We have many other races, though. Seeq and nu mou, moogles…the rare viera. A score or more of others, good bad and indifferent. You'll have much to learn about and acclimate to."

"It should be interesting, at least."

Tomaj came and set down two steaming black cups of coffee, turned a chair around at their table, and sat down. "Whence do you hail, Loghain?" he asked. "For, if you don't mind my saying, you're not much like other humes in Rabanastre."

"I was beginning to notice that," Loghain said. "Every human I've seen thus far has been rather…short. And blond."

"It's true. Dalmascans run very much to type, and a dark-haired man is a rare thing, let alone someone in excess of six feet tall. You look rather more Archadian to me. Or Rozarrian, though you're rather pale."

"I'm from a place called Ferelden," Loghain said.

"I've never heard tell of Ferelden. You must have traveled far," Tomaj said.

"I'm not sure you could say I traveled at all. I died, you see. They tell me I'm Mist-born, but I can't say as I fully understand it yet."

"Mist-born? By the gods! That's a rare gift. The gods have something special in mind for you."

"Wish they'd tell me what, so I can have done with it," Loghain said.

"You'll know when it's time, I expect," Tomaj said. "I hope you're here for good purposes. Some of the gods don't have people's best interests at heart."

"I honestly couldn't tell you what to expect from me," Loghain said. "I've been an agent of both good and evil in my day. I have every intention of avoiding any destiny, great or ill, that has been laid out for me. I think the world will run better without my interference."

"You may not be given the choice. You know where you could find answers? The Gran Kiltias on Mount Bur-Omisace. He's a dreamsage, sees visions in his dreams. Sometimes the gods speak to him. He may be able to tell you who put you here and why. It's a long and dangerous journey to the Holy Mountain, though. From here, you have to pass through the Golmore Jungle, and thanks to the viera that live there, that's nearly impossible. Bur-Omisace is in jagd, so you can't take an airship."

"What's yakt?" Loghain asked.

"Jagd. It's a place where the Mist is dense enough to rob airships of power. Skystones won't float."

"Well, I'm hardly kitted out for a nearly impossible journey just now," Loghain said. "Perhaps I should think about finding this mountain, though. What's a Gran Kiltias exactly?"

"The Kiltias are the priests and holy men of the Holy Mountain," Migelo said. "The Gran Kiltias is their leader. You would find much wisdom there, but it's not a trip I'd make without a strong and well-equipped party of hunters or soldiers."

"Well, it's something to keep in mind for the future, anyway," Loghain said. "Right now I don't own so much as a pair of smalls. I'll have to see to my basic needs before I can think about hunting down information."

"Speaking of," Tomaj said. "Do you have a place to stay tonight? I could let you have one of my rooms."

"I have no coin. After breakfast I intend to hunt down some work."

"What line were you in back home?" Tomaj asked.

"I was a soldier. I'm thinking I might do well to turn a hand to hunting now; it's about all I'm good for. But I've got a strong back, and there must be someone in this city needs a man to lift and carry for them. It will be awhile before I can afford a weapon."

"The hunt board is right on that wall," Tomaj said. "That's where folks in town post bounties on monsters they'd like to see exterminated. I'd happily loan you my dagger if you'd agree to hunt down my own bounty. You'd make three hundred gil just for one kill, more than enough to get you a room for the night."

"What's gil?" Loghain asked.

"Coin. We use copper pennies, silver gil, and gold galleons, but most of the time we just use gil. There's a hundred copper pennies in a gil, and five hundred silver gil in a galleon," Tomaj said.

"Gold is valued more highly here than in my homeland," Loghain said. "I can see why silver would be your base currency."

Tomaj stood up. "You go look at my bill, and check out some of the others that are posted. You may find something that interests you. I'll go get your meals."

Loghain stood up and walked over to the wall where a notice board advertised local bounties. There were a number of bills posted to it, each with a crude drawing of a particular animal appended. It was easy enough to find Tomaj's bill; posted most recently, it was on top of several others. It was a better-done drawing, too, than most. The creature depicted looked like a tiny man, with a round red head. The details left Loghain scratching his.

He sat back down just as Tomaj came out with two plates of food. Loghain took his first sip of coffee, after he judged it to be cool enough, and he set the cup aside with an air of respect. It was strong, but he rather liked it. There was a kick to it.

Tomaj set his plate in front of him. There were two large filets of battered meat fried golden and drenched in white gravy and a mound of hash with cheese. Two large eggs were fried sunny side-up on the edge of the plate.

"This is cockatrice?" Loghain asked, as he poked the meat with his fork.

"Domestic cockatrice. Ten times better than wild," Tomaj said.

"I've never eaten tame or wild," Loghain said. He cut off a corner of the meat and forked it into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. "Tastes like chicken."

"What's a chicken?" Migelo asked.

"You don't have chickens? They're birds. We raise them for meat and eggs," Loghain said.

"Sounds like a cockatrice, though not many people raise them," Tomaj said. "Perhaps they're two names for the same thing?"

"I doubt it," Loghain said. "I've never seen a chicken you could cut such a large slab of meat from."

Tomaj sat down again. "Did you take a look at my bill? What do you think?"

Loghain sawed another bite off his cockatrice filet and cocked an eyebrow at Tomaj. "This creature…is a _tomato?" _he said.

"You're not familiar with mandragora, are you? They're plant-creatures. They can walk around, but they're vegetable matter, not meat. Tomatoes are usually found far south of here, but this one's a rogue that's wandered up to the desert. Most fiends leave chocobos alone, but this tomato's been attacking caravans heading to town from the Outpost. It's damaged goods, hurt chocobos, even hurt one of the drivers. It's been making it harder and harder to get goods from Nalbina or off the Mosphoran Highwaste. I'm sure Migelo's felt the pinch. All the merchants in town have. I thought I'd post a bill; see if anyone can knock that nasty back in its place. It's not a monster you'd need special equipment to take on, and you won't have to travel far to find it. Just head out the east gate and strike straight off into the estersand. You'll find it somewhere before you reach the Outpost."

"Well, I suppose I can take a crack at it."

"Good," Tomaj said. He pulled from a pocket of his short trousers a hunting knife and laid it on the table next to Loghain's plate. Then from a pocket of his shirt he took a small, leather-bound book with a stylized boar or possibly one of the pig-beings on the cover. "This is a primer. It will key itself to you and keep automatic record of your kills, as well as provide you with information about the creatures you've slain. It's a good way to prove your chops when people want to see credentials."

A loud, beery voice broke over them from the direction of the bar. "Are you sure that's a good idea, Tomaj? You don't know nothing 'bout this guy."

Loghain instantly recognized the voice. His eyes landed on a stout, short figure seated on a barstool, with short, violently red hair and a long, braided moustache. His jaw dropped.

"He was a soldier, Oghren," Tomaj said. Loghain barely heard him. "I reckon if he wants to turn his hand to hunting now he'll do just fine."

"Maybe, but that's a pretty big risk to take, ain't it? Aw, shit. I suppose it's up to me to keep the clan safe. When you go off huntin' this tomato, Longshanks, I'll go along with ya. Got to make sure you're up to snuff," the dwarf said.

Loghain stood up so suddenly his chair nearly tipped over. He made two long steps over to where the dwarf sat and stuck out his hand. "By the Maker, Oghren, I never thought I'd say this, but it's good to see you," he said. "How did you end up here? You were alive last I saw you."

The dwarf peered up at him uncertainly. "Have we met?" he asked.

Loghain's hand dropped. "You don't…know me? You're not from Ferelden."

"Mister, I come from Mah'habara, in Gran Pulse," the dwarf said. "I ain't never heard of Ferelden."

"You look just like someone I knew," Loghain said, and sat back down.

"You knew an Oghren back in your world?" Migelo asked.

"Right down to the very note of his voice," Loghain said. "But that Oghren was from a place called Orzammar."

"You were friends?" Tomaj asked.

"Not exactly. Comrades-in-arms, more like, and that reluctantly. But he was a powerful warrior. Whatever I thought of him personally I respected that."

"Do you think the gods play tricks like that?" Migelo asked. "Split one soul into two people, identical but for their experiences?"

"It stretches my imagination too thin to think it could just be coincidence," Loghain said. "Oghren exists in two worlds, Thedas and Ivalice. I wonder how many other people I know have alternate lives here? I'm not sure I want to find out."

Rather morose, he turned his attention back to his meal. When he finished he stood, thanked Migelo, shook his hand, and took up the dagger and primer. "I'll be back as soon as I've settled this rogue tomato," he said to Tomaj.

"I'll have your bounty ready," that worthy said.

Oghren slid off his barstool and tossed a coin to the barkeep. He followed Loghain out into the bright desert sunlight outside. The heat struck Loghain like a blow. He shook it off, and headed down the east end to the southern plaza. He didn't shorten his steps to make it easy on the short-legged dwarf who followed. In truth he found Oghren's presence somewhat unsettled him. How far did one have to travel to find duplicates of people they knew? His return to Ferelden might be more complicated than simply boarding a ship.

The streets grew crowded while he was in the tavern; people bustled here and there on errands or at work, or simply at leisure. A startling percentage of the human men he saw were bare-chested as he was, and the ones that weren't typically wore only vests, generally left unfastened in front. No wonder no one seemed at all taken aback by his lack of shirt. The bangaa he saw were all bare-chested, though Migelo wore a fine blouse and waistcoat, and the pig-like beings too wore nothing on top and very little below. He didn't care to emulate the local fashion any longer than he had to, even though he understood the appeal in this heat.

Oghren was not bare-chested; he wore sturdy chainmail armor of a type not too dissimilar to the heavy mail with which Loghain was familiar. Loghain envied him the comfort; without a shirt and with pants too large, he felt ridiculous. At least he wasn't naked any longer.

East gate opened as they approached, and he wondered mightily how that worked. The two solid doors were massive, and he could see no mechanism, though it could well be hidden in the walls, along with the person or persons responsible for opening it when someone came near. Then again, he supposed the whole thing could be down to magic. Magic was in great supply in this world, and could do things magic back home could not.

The eastern courtyard was very much the same as the southern courtyard he'd already seen, paved with slate flagstones, walled with brick and crumbling plaster, open at the far end to the desert beyond. The gate crystal here was not orange but blue, and the landscape of the desert itself was different; red sand instead of hardpan. Loghain wondered if he would regret drinking coffee instead of water, but headed out into the desert anyway. As long as he could find this tomato-creature swiftly, it should not matter terribly.

Loghain expected to see his first cactus, a desert plant he'd read about in books, but he didn't expect that cactus to walk. A pair of them wandered about, prickly and incomprehensible. He stopped for a moment to watch them. They took little notice of his presence and went about their incomprehensible walking-cactus business.

"What's a' matter, you thirsty?" Oghren asked. Loghain started. He'd forgotten that Oghren followed him.

"No, I've just…I've never seen anything like that before," he said. "Where I come from, plants don't walk about."

"Most of our plants don't, either, but cactites are different. Half-animal. Like that tomato you're after. Most of the cactites mind their own business, smart enough to leave people alone, but if you're lost in the desert and you need water, you can kill 'em and cut 'em open for it. You want to stick to these nice fat little ones, though. Some of the others are poisonous, though a brewer can take some types and make some pretty nice liquor out of it."

Loghain set off deeper into the desert and spotted a doglike creature, white with an orange back and a black face, with batlike ears and red folds of skin between its fore and hind limbs. The creature saw him and charged. He readied his knife.

"Bold son of a bitch," he said, as he met the creature's charge with a knife to the throat and the monster crumpled. "Where I come from, wild animals typically avoid humans, unless they're mad."

"It ain't like that here," Oghren said. "Wolf was Mist-born. They breed, and after a generation or two bred monsters learn to be wary of people, but Mist-born fiends never learn. That's why we need a lot of hunters: in an hour from now, the gods will have made another damned wolf to replace the one you killed, and maybe two or ten more. If we didn't kill 'em they'd overrun us."

"I take it you don't have to be cautious about over-hunting," Loghain said.

"Some things you do. Wolves are common as dust, but some critters the gods don't make too many of. A lot of namby-pamby types say we should only take what we can use, but I don't hold with that. Some things just need killin'," Oghren said.

"Figures you'd say that," Loghain said. He gestured to the fallen wolf with his knife. "Is there any use to this thing? The pelt doesn't look like it has much value to it."

"You're right, but a furrier'll buy it all the same," Oghren said. "Then the fangs and claws have Mist in 'em, so they're worth a bit. Meat's no good, though. Leave it for the scavengers."

Loghain dressed out the animal and rubbed sand on the meat side of the pelt to dry it. He half-buried it in the sand, stood, and brushed his hands off.

"I'll come back for it later, once it's had a chance to dry out a bit," he said. He tracked further into the steep-walled arroyo. He caught sight of something large and green in the distance. "What in the Maker's name is that?"

"Wild saurian," Oghren said, with a grunt. "It's an ancient type of dragon."

Loghain took a better look at the creature. It stood perhaps twenty feet tall, with a massive head that was predominantly mouth. It had powerful hind legs and rinky-dinky arms that looked about useless. It balanced itself with a long, powerful tail that looked like it could do some damage on its own.

"I can't believe the watch allows something like that to exist within sight of the city walls," he said.

"They wouldn't, 'cept this one happens to mind its own business. Leave it alone and it'll leave you alone. If they killed it, another would likely be born to take its place and it probably wouldn't be so friendly," Oghren said.

"Seems like an awfully big risk to take. I hope no child ever comes out here and teases it."

"Any parent that would let their child run loose in the desert oughtta be horsewhipped," Oghren said.

"I suppose not many do, so there's that. Well, if it works for Rabanastre, who am I to say they're wrong?" Loghain said. He walked out onto a promontory of sandstone that rose up out of the loose sand and spotted the color red. A tiny bipedal creature, not more than a foot tall, wandered about in aimless circles beneath a spindly tree that blossomed in pink flowers. Its head appeared to be a large, ripe tomato. It had no eyes, but a large mouth opened and closed. Sharp white teeth flickered in and out of view.

The creature was comical. He couldn't see what fussed people about it. He approached, and the creature turned toward him. It made a sound, a high-pitched screech, and that was apparently a warning. One step closer and the creature opened its mouth and let out a jet burst of flame that set the legs of Loghain's trousers on fire. He swore a startled oath, jammed the hunting knife into the top of the creature's head and twisted it so that it fell limp to the sands, and then beat out the flames that threatened his lower body.

Oghren laughed his loud, chesty laugh. "Guess nobody warned ya 'bout the fire-breath, hah?" he said. "Still, that was a good job done. You dealt with the critter 'fore you worried about yer pants."

"These are Migelo's trousers," Loghain said, as he surveyed the damage. His pink knees and hairy legs peeked out through the singed fabric.

"Oh, haw haw haw! Migelo's pants! That's the funniest thing I heard in a dog's age," Oghren said, with a resumption of his beery laughter. "Come on, Longshanks. You've got a bounty to collect, an' I reckon you gotta tell ol' Migelo the bad news about his pants."

Loghain gathered up the little creature's body, pocketed the knife, and retrieved his wolf pelt from the sand. Oghren continued to snicker about Migelo's burned pants all the way back to the city. Loghain didn't see the humor in it, though not generally disposed to find humor in much, and he hoped his bounty was large enough to pay for a replacement pair.

"Well, Oghren, is he a hunter, or have I erred in giving him a primer?" Tomaj asked, as they came through the door of the Sandsea.

"He might be a hunter at that," Oghren said. He immediately relocated to a barstool and ordered up a round with a raised finger. "Dealt with the tomato before he worried about the fire in his pants. That takes some craw."

"I see you brought the little monster back with you," Tomaj said to Loghain. "I bet I could do something with a rogue tomato. I'll give you sixty gil for it. How does that sound?"

"Sounds fine," Loghain said. Tomaj opened up the pouch he wore at his belt and counted out three hundred and sixty silver coins.

"Your bounty, sir, plus the sixty gil for the meat. And I promised a couple of healing potions and a teleport stone as well. I'll go back and get them," he said, and promptly disappeared into the back room.

Loghain walked over to where Migelo still sat at the table by the hunt board and set the money down in front of him.

"What's that for?" Migelo asked.

"I ruined your trousers," Loghain said. "I hope that's enough to cover a new pair."

"Nonsense, those pants were old, ready for the rag-bag. You needn't feel obliged to replace them."

"All the same, Ser, I'd feel better were you to allow me to pay you their worth," Loghain said.

"Well they certainly weren't worth this much. Ten gil, for your conscience, and you keep the rest. You stand in far greater need of it than I," Migelo said, and counted out ten silvers.

"Well, if you're sure that's enough, Ser. I thank you."

Loghain pocketed his gil and went to look at the hunt board. He found a local bounty posted by someone who wrote that he'd be waiting in the tavern, and looked over near the door to see a turbaned man sitting dejectedly on the floor with a drink in his hand. Loghain crossed over to him.

"Are you Gatsley? You posted a mark for this thextera?" Loghain said.

"You're a hunter? Thank the gods! This thextera has been disrupting caravans coming through the westersand for days now, and nobody's done a thing about it. I've staked my entire life's savings on a shipment due through this afternoon, and if that beast wrecks it, I'm finished. Kill it for me, and you'll have my gratitude - _and_ my bounty."

Oghren spun around on his stool. "Longshanks, you ain't going after no thextera with just a dagger in hand," he said.

"If it's too much for me, I'll turn back," Loghain said. "I need the coin."

"Well, don't say I didn't warn ya," Oghren said, and turned back to his drink.

"How far out into the westersand is this thing?" Loghain asked of Gatsley.

"Don't know for certain, but it's been attacking caravans close to the city, so you shouldn't have to travel too far out to find it."

"Still, perhaps I'd best get a drink of water while I'm able," Loghain said. He asked at the bar, and the bartender set him up with a free glass. He drank it down, and then headed back out into the desert heat alone.

The westersand was obviously west of the city, and the estersand was east. He wondered idly what they called the desert to the south and the north as he walked to the west gate. It opened before him and he passed through to a courtyard very much the same as the other two, with the addition of a large entryway set into the north wall that led, he assumed, to the aerodrome about which Migelo told him. The thought still boggled him. He would have to go there sometime and see these flying ships for himself. Right now, however, there was work to do.

The sands of the desert didn't hold prints well, but he found some pugmarks not far out into the westersand that told of a monstrous wolflike creature. One print was nearly as long as his foot. He looked at the hunting knife he held in his hand, shook his head, and proceeded with some misgivings.

It was easy enough to find the creature. Even without its tracks, it stood out. The size of a horse, and not a small horse, with brown and white striped hindquarters, yellow and brown-spotted forequarters, a red face, blue jaw and paws, a white ring around its neck, and a blue underbelly rimmed with red folds of skin between fore and hind limbs. It had brilliant blue eyes and two short horns on its nose, side by side. He saw it from behind a dune, and the wind was in his favor, so the beast did not see or smell him.

It was the ugliest, most magnificent thing he had ever seen in his life, short of perhaps the Archdemon. He found in himself a desire to allow it to live. Perhaps he could drive it off, instead. He likely wouldn't get his bounty, but there were worse things than a shortage of ready coin. He put the knife in his pocket and jumped out at the beast, completely heedless of the fact that it was, in truth, an exceptionally large meat-eating wild animal. He bellowed a war cry and the monster came at a run.

He struck it hard on the snout with his fist. The animal sat back on its haunches and sneezed, then growled and attacked again. Loghain struck it again, harder. "Go on, get out of here," he shouted. The wolf sat back on its haunches again and howled a loud howl at the heavens. Several small wolves ran up to attack. Loghain drew his knife and killed these without compunction. The giant drew itself together for another lunge, and he struck it two hard, fast blows right on the nose, below the horns. The animal yelped and cowered down on the sand like a whipped puppy, and then it began to wag its long, brushy tail.

"Go on, get," Loghain shouted again. The animal flinched back at the sound of his voice but only wagged its tail harder. It whined, low and loud, then stretched up and tried to lick his face. He fended it off with some difficulty. "What are you, someone's pet run feral?"

The thextera barked, as loud as an avalanche, it seemed, and crouched in a decided "play with me" gesture. It jumped up, cavorted in a circle, and crouched down before him again. Loghain reached out and scratched its head between its ears. He couldn't keep a dog, especially not a monster dog. He would be hard-pressed to keep _himself _fed.

But then again, the thextera might make one hell of a hunting partner, if it took commands.

"All right, if you're coming, come, but you'd better mind or I'll slit your gizzard," he said, and turned to head back toward the city. The thextera followed at a respectful distance.

"Odds bodkins," a guard said as they passed by him on their way through the gate back into the city. It was a sentiment shared by numerous passersby on the way back to the Sandsea. He didn't think much of walking into the tavern with the dog; in Ferelden, such was taken as a matter of course.

He found the petitioner. "Serrah Gatsley? I know it isn't what you asked for, but I don't think my friend will be bothering your caravan now," he said. The man stared at the dog with his eyes bugged out.

"What? Oh! Of course, of course. Your bounty, as promised. Five hundred gil, a headguard, and a teleport stone. Take it, with my thanks. Come by my stall in the bazaar and I'll give you a discount. I have some monographs you might be interested in, written by expert hunters. They tell you how to get the most gil out of various types of fiends."

"That's quite the monster you've tamed," Tomaj said. "You must be strong; it's the way of the world, the weak follow the strong. Lots of people tame wolves but it's rare to see someone tame something larger. That will be a good companion to you in your hunting."

"Where I come from, dogs are prized," Loghain said. "I had one once, myself, long ago, but after she died I didn't really care to have another. I suppose it's about time I changed that. I hope it's smart."

"It will be. There's a powerful, magic bond forged between a tamer and his animal," Tomaj said. "It enables even the dullest-witted creature to accept and carry out even fairly complex commands."

Loghain scratched behind the thextera's ear. He had to reach up to do it. "Smart enough not to talk, eh? Good. You're no mabari, but you're something."

"What are ya gonna name him?" Oghren asked.

"I think his name must be Odds Bodkins, judging by the number of people who've said it at sight of him," Loghain said. "I'll just call him Odd for short."

"Well, he is that," Oghren said, and turned back to his drink.

"You've got enough coin now to think about buying your own weapon," Tomaj said. "You should buy a bottomless satchel, too, to carry your spoils. The enchantment on them means you can carry an almost unlimited amount of items, meaning healing potions and unguents as well as pelts and stones. Learn a spell of reversible miniaturization and you can haul some huge things about with you 'til you've leave to sell them. Gatsley probably has one in his shop down on the bazaar. A satchel, that is; you'll have to go to Yugri's for the spell."

"That sounds like a good idea," Loghain said. "Already I have more things than I can carry in my pockets. Thank you for the loan of your knife."

"Not a problem, my man," Tomaj said. "Why don't you hang on to it for now? You might want to save your coin against a better grade of weapon, when you have enough points to license one. You should probably buy yourself a spell of healing as soon as ever you can. Might want to prioritize that above a weapon, honestly. Healing potions are wonderful things, but you've a disturbing tendency to run out of them when you need them most. It's best to have back-up."

"A good point, ser. I'll heed your advice."

He whistled to Odd, who had some difficulty turning around among the tightly packed tables, and left the tavern. He went to Yugri's Magicks and there purchased a basic spell of healing that the friendly proprietor trained him to use in just a few minutes. It gave him a thrill, not an entirely pleasant one, to cast his first spell.

"Now that you've received training, you can license that spell," Yugri said. "All you have to do is touch the license box for the basic cure spell and the board will purchase that square for you, without using up any of your available points. Might I ask, why haven't you learned any magic before now? You're more than old enough."

"Actually, I'm only a few hours old," Loghain said, intentionally flippant.

"Are you having me on? You're Mist-born?" she said.

"So it would seem," Loghain said. "People keep telling me it's a blessing, but I can't say it feels that way. I'm adrift in a world I know nothing about."

"Well, you can have a lot of fun learning, don't you think? Or are you not interested in new things?"

"I lived a fairly insular life and rarely encountered new things," Loghain said. "I will confess I seem to take some interest in this new place. Everything's so different to what I knew, it's fascinating."

"You come back here whenever you've a mind to learn a new spell," she said. "If it becomes known a Mist-born person frequents my little establishment business will go up tenfold, so I'll give you a discount."

"I suppose then you'll be telling everybody that I shopped here," Loghain said, with some sourness. "I'll take you up on that offer of a discount, though. Magic is a useful tool to know, now that I can manage it."

He left the store and headed for the bazaar, where he found Gatsley's stand. He purchased a satchel guaranteed to hold everything he would ever require, and he bought a spool of blue string for a few bits (_pennies_, he reminded himself; he had much to accustom himself) that he immediately put to use in his hair by plaiting a pair of wind braids. Now with his long hair kept back out of his face he felt more together, though he was still shirtless and wore burned-up pants too large for him. His last purchase was a coin purse, to hold what remained of his bounties safely. With his satchel over his shoulder and his coin purse tied on to his belt, he wandered the bazaar and looked at weapons. The available quality wasn't much. Perhaps he would be better off to save up for a weapon from a proper smithy, like that Amal. He could probably buy his own hunting knife here, and it looked as though he might be able to find a decent longbow at the bazaar as well, though he knew it would be some time before he had sufficient points to license one.

Well, there was no time like the present to get working on that. He returned to the Sandsea and looked at the hunt board again.

"What's a wraith?" he asked of Tomaj. "Sounds like a ghost."

"It is a ghost," Tomaj said. "You can't stick 'em with a blade, so you have to use magic. White magic, which means healing magic for most adventurers. There are some high-level holy spells that deal tremendous white magic damage."

"You can kill this thing with a cure spell?" Loghain asked, doubtfully.

"Not kill exactly, it's already dead. 'Make it cease to exist' is perhaps more accurate," Tomaj said.

Loghain looked back at the hunt board. "What's a marilith?" he asked.

"Giant snake," Oghren said. "Tough enough on its own, but it's down in the Zertinan Caverns, where strong men hesitate to tread. Powerful fiends down there, Longshanks. Ain't sayin' you ain't got a chance, but you'd better have more than a dagger in yer hand before you venture down there."

"And this 'ring wyrm' must be a type of dragon," Loghain said. "No going after that with just a knife and no protection. I suppose I can try my hand at the wraith hunt, but I have my doubts I can kill anything, alive or dead, with magic."

"If you want more opportunities, take that primer I gave you and show it to the bangaa outside the building in the north end marked with that symbol on the sign out front. He'll let you in," Tomaj said. "You'll find it worth your time."

"All right, I'll stop by later on," Loghain said. He left the tavern and headed down into Lowtown again, where he found the woman Milha in a squatting position near the door to a private residence. He spoke to her about the wraith hunt, and she explained.

"One of the local children was playing in the Garamscythe Waterway - the sewers that run under Lowtown. It's a trifle cleaner than it sounds. In any event, he came running back screaming, and hid himself in this empty house, claiming he saw a ghost. Well, I went down there myself, to humor him, see, and to my shock, I discovered that it was real! That's when I petitioned the hunt. The child refuses to come out of this house until the ghost is gone."

"Well, we can't have that. I'll see what I can do, but I make you no promises. I'm new to magic, and I doubt my ability to cast well enough to hurt this thing. I will try," Loghain said to her.

"Well, I thank you for that. The entrance to the sewers is one street over, through the door to Storehouse Five and to your right. The children are always picking the lock on the storehouse door, so you should find it open."

"Very well. I'll return and let you know how it went, one way or the other."

With Odd at his heels, he entered the sewer. He did not have far to go; the wraith attacked almost immediately. Though it was ephemeral it had the ability to inflict some damage, and Odd's powerful jaws were useless against it. Loghain found himself in a strange and unwonted position, and stood stock still casting cure spell after cure spell, at the creature, at himself, and at the dog, that at least distracted the ghost more than somewhat. It was hard to tell what, if anything, was happening, but after he cast approximately a dozen healing spells at it, the wraith shrieked and vanished. It left behind nothing but a strange glass-like orb that glimmered in the dimness. Loghain picked it up and put it in his satchel.

He returned to Milha and showed her the entry for the wraith in his primer. "I still can't believe I managed it," he said. "It truly didn't seem like it was working."

"You must be a powerful mage," Milha said. "Most hunters aren't much shakes with magic, which is why I think I had a hard time getting anyone to take this hunt on. You say you're new to it. You should think about learning more. It would surely be useful to you."

She turned to the door of the residence and knocked. "Deeg, honey, the ghost is gone. You can come out now."

A small blue head, one of the pig-beings, poked out through the door. "Th-the ghost is gone?" the creature, Loghain thought it was a boy, said.

Milha nodded her head. "It is. This kind man hunted it for us."

The creature came shyly out of the house. An adult male pig-being, tan in color, came up behind Loghain and Milha. "Well, there you are, my little Deeg. You had me worried."

Milha looked at Loghain. "I hope you didn't think it was _my _child," she said.

"I didn't. You said it was one of the local children," Loghain said. "I'm glad to see people looking out for each other. In my homeland, that didn't always happen, especially across races."

"It doesn't always happen here, either, to be truthful," Milha said. "Your reward, Sir. Well earned." She handed over a pouch of silver, a bottle of black liquid, and a sturdy pair of leather gauntlets Loghain donned immediately.

"What's this stuff?" Loghain asked, as he held up the bottle.

"You don't know?" the adult pig-creature said. "That's ether. Magic casters drink it to get a quick refresher of Mist when they're running low. I threw that and the gauntlets in to the pot for the bounty."

"I thank you; that sounds like it may come in handy." The pig-creature offered its meaty hand and Loghain shook with him. "I'm new to this region; forgive my asking, but what are you?"

The pig-being laughed. "I'm a seeq. You don't have seeq where you come from?"

"We have few races where I come from; only humans, elves, and dwarves." There was no sense explaining the unknown Qunari, though Loghain supposed it was possible they did exist in this world, and Migelo simply didn't know it.

The seeq laughed again. "Well, if you don't mind my saying, that sounds like a dull place to me. Where's the color?"

"There does seem to be more of it in this world," Loghain said. He bowed a short bow to the seeq and the lady and took his leave of them.

To cast so much magic used up a lot of energy, and Loghain found himself rather hungry. Since it was the only tavern he knew of, he decided to return to the Sandsea for something to eat. He found Migelo still there, and sat down at the table across from him. Tomaj came over to take his order.

"Something light," Loghain said. "It's not been that long since breakfast."

"Try the soup of the day," Tomaj said.

"Sounds good to me," Loghain said, and the tavernmaster left to see to it for him.

"How's the hunting going?" Migelo asked him. "Have you taken down anything else?"

"I just hunted that wraith in the sewers," Loghain said. "Strangest kill I've ever made, no question."

"You killed a wraith? With what spell?" Migelo asked.

"Just a basic healing spell," Loghain said.

"Odds Bodkins, man, that's quite the feat. Wraiths are powerful, and a basic healing spell tends to be weak. You must have a powerful will."

"I've been called willful," Loghain said. "I don't know if that's the same thing."

"It surely can be. Well well. I suppose I've no worries for you any longer. You can clearly look after yourself, so long as you know your limitations. I should really be getting back to my shop now. You take care of yourself, and stop by once in awhile, let me know how you're getting on. If you need any help, with anything, you have but to ask," Migelo said. He stood up and offered his hand. Loghain shook with him again.

"I thank you, Ser. I don't know what I would have done without your help."

"Think nothing of it. Don't be a stranger, now." And Migelo left the tavern. Tomaj came with a bowl in his hand and set it down in front of Loghain. The soup was red and steamy.

"Is this…tomato?" Loghain asked.

"Yes, sir," Tomaj said.

"Is this…_the_ tomato?" Loghain asked.

"Would it bother you if it were?"

Loghain looked at the soup, then shrugged. "I suppose not."

He spooned up a mouthful. The soup was rich with herbs and savory. Tomaj turned a chair around backwards and sat down again.

"You haven't gone to check out that building yet, have you?" he said. "You really should, you know."

"I don't know about that. It's some kind of…_social club_, isn't it?" Loghain said.

"On my honor, it is not. Half the people there are utterly non-social. But it's a good source of hunting information, and there _is_ someone there you should probably meet."

"Who is that?" Loghain asked.

"Migelo's _other _Mist-born stray," Tomaj said. "She came here last year around this time. There's only been three Mist-born people in Rabanastre, counting yourself, in the past three hundred years, and the third only showed up five, maybe six years ago. Three Mist-born people in not very much time smacks to me of destiny. You three should meet, though how you're going to get audience with the third, who was made an honorary Lord or some such and spends his days at the Royal Palace, is beyond my ken."

"What are their names?" Loghain asked.

"The man, the first one born, his name is…let me think…Mark. The woman is named Elilia. Elilia Cousland."

Loghain felt a jolt in his stomach that had nothing to do with the food. "Did you say 'Cousland?'" he asked.

"That's right," Tomaj said.

"I knew an Elilia Cousland, back home. Or rather, I knew _of_ her. She was the daughter of a nobleman in my homeland. She died last year, defending her parents and her castle from an attack by a man I did not conspire with, not on that, but who I was in league with."

"You mean to say you and she are from the same land?" Tomaj said. "Destiny, I'm telling you. Go to the clan. Meet her. The gods will it."

"I don't much care what the gods will," Loghain said. "But I will meet her. If nothing else, she deserves an apology for what happened to her. Whether her father was in league with our enemies, as Howe claimed, or was not, she didn't deserve to die. She was young, and obviously courageous."

He finished his soup, paid his bill, and left the tavern with Odd at his heels. He headed into the north end and scouted around until he saw a sign in front of a building that bore the same stylized boar or perhaps seeq as the cover of his primer. As Tomaj had said, there was a particularly conspicuous bangaa standing out front. Loghain showed him his primer.

"Ah, new blood, ain't ya? Go on in, if yer goin'. Make yer bows to Montblanc," the bangaa said.

Loghain and Odd went inside. It was a bit like stepping in to the royal palace at home, though of course far smaller. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling in front of a grand double staircase that led up to a balcony, and in a minstrel's gallery above a string quartet played. The surroundings were at odds with the people gathered in them, who were mostly of the roughest type. The exception was a small, furry, mouse-looking creature in a green velvet doublet and orange breeches, which stood perched precariously on the railing of the balcony.

A yellow seeq sat on the floor near the entrance. "Excuse me, Ser; I was told to speak to a Montblanc…?" Loghain said to him.

"Ah, a new member, eh? Name's Bansat. Nice to meet ya. Montblanc is just upstairs, on the rail. The moogle."

Moogle. So small, furry, mousey-looking creatures were moogles. Loghain filed the information away in his memory and mounted the stairs. The moogle turned to watch him approach, and the pompom at the back of its head bobbed in the air.

"Er…Montblanc, Ser?" he ventured. The name sounded to him ineffably Orlesian, but he supposed this creature was not.

"Hello, kupo," the moogle said, in an appropriately squeaky voice. "Are you here to join our hunt club?"

"I…take it I am," Loghain said.

"First thing's first, there's a strict entrance examination you must pass," Montblanc said. He looked Loghain up and down. "You pass, kupo! Moogles are quick to make up their minds. I'll file all the necessary paperwork at once. Go on, have a look around. Talk to people. There's a lot of information floating around here."

Loghain looked around him. In his immediate vicinity was a tall, striking dark-skinned woman with tall, rabbit-like ears and white hair. Standing on top of a short wall was a short, toad-like creature with shaggy white hair and a long, thick tail. There were bangaa, there were seeq, there were humans, and there were a few other moogles. The toad-like creature climbed down laboriously from its wall and stumped up to him, with a long staff for a crutch.

"You are Mist-born," the creature said, in a wavery, ancient voice. "I am Mah'kenroh. I am nu mou. You are touched by the gods."

"You're a…nu mou?" Loghain said. "Migelo said I might find some answers to what happened to me from a nu mou."

"It is true, we are closer to the gods than most other races," Mah'kenroh said. "If you were hoping that I might tell you who put you here and why, however, I'm afraid I do not know."

Loghain had hoped that, but didn't feel terribly disappointed or at all surprised. "How does this happen, being Mist-born, exactly?" he asked.

"The Mist of this world is powerful. Magical. The gods can shape it to their will. In most cases they are content to form beasts and birds, soulless and without number. But at times, they feel the need to shape a being, and within that shape, coalesced from the Mist, they place a soul from the realm of the dead, to give their creation the truth of life and not merely the semblance. You are the third such being in Rabanastre within the past five years. I greatly fear that the gods are preparing us for something momentous, and probably terrible."

"Tell me: is there any way for me to _avoid _my supposed destiny?" Loghain asked.

"Unlikely," Mah'kenroh said. "It will seek you out, wherever you go."

"I was afraid of that. Still, if there is a way, I will find it."

Mah'kenroh stumped slowly back to his wall. "Good luck with that," he called back, in his wavery voice.

Montblanc touched Loghain on the shin. "Your paperwork is all in order," he said. "Allow me to present you with a small token to commemorate your joining." He handed over three bottles of green healing potion. "May I see your clan primer, please?"

Loghain handed it over.

"I see you've completed several petitioned hunts already," Montblanc said, after a moment to read. "That's wonderful. Earn a few more clan points through regular hunting and you'll gain a rank, kupo. Right now, you're a Moppet, and that's not something you want to stay for long. Each rank you earn earns you greater rewards, and the Clan Provisioner in the Bazaar will sell you better items and equipment. It pays to be upwardly mobile, kupo! In addition to rewards, the clan is contracted for special hunts you won't find on the hunt boards of towns. I have a couple at the moment, kupo. Would you like to hear about them? One is local, and the other is in Bhujerba."

"I'd like to hear about the local one, please," Loghain said.

"Ah, there's a fiend on the Giza Plains, south of the city, kupo. Dania, at the nomad village, petitioned the hunt. You'll need to talk to her to take the hunt on officially, of course. She's the cockatrice-keeper of the village, so she should be easy to find. The fiend is a cluckatrice, with chicks, and it's a substantial foe, kupo. You don't look well-equipped. You would be wise to bring a second along, just in case," Montblanc said.

"Perhaps Oghren will go with me," Loghain said. "Thank you for telling me, Ser. By the way, do you happen to know a young lady by the name of Elilia Cousland?"

"Indeed I do, kupo," Montblanc said. "She's one of our newest members. She would most likely be out hunting this time of day. Let's see if someone knows where she went."

Montblanc sauntered down the stairs, his walk a kind of quick-stepping waddle, and asked a blond-haired dwarf seated on the lower steps where Elilia might be.

"I heard she was heading for the Giza Plains, last I knew, boss," the dwarf said. "She's probably duking it out with werewolves in the Starfall Field."

"You hear that, kupo?" Montblanc said. "You might be able to catch her if you leave soon. If not, she's usually here in the clan hall during the high heat of midday. Hunts in the mornings and evenings. She's from a colder climate."

"Yes, she is," Loghain said. "Thanks for the tip; I'll see if I can catch her, though perhaps taking her unawares in the field is ill-advised. At least we'd have a bit of privacy to talk. Giza Plains is south of the city, correct? Is there any place I can purchase a map?"

"The cartographer's guild always has a moogle posted to the Southern Plaza to sell maps, Big Man," the dwarf said.

"Thank you."

Outside the clan hall, Loghain checked the position of the sun in the sky and guessed he had a good hour's grace before the "high heat of midday," though it was hard to imagine it could get any hotter than it already was. He went to the Sandsea and found Oghren, and told him about the cluckatrice hunt.

"Petitioned by the desert nomads?" Oghren said. "Won't be shit for a bounty on it, 'specially not split two ways."

"So you're not interested?" Loghain said. Oghren stood up and hitched at his pants.

"Nah, I better go along. You don't know many healing spells yet - you need someone with you knows how to cure stone-sickness."

"Stone-sickness? Is this a dwarven thing?" Loghain asked.

Oghren shook his head. "Cluckatrice spit's got this magic in it, inflicts stone-sickness on ya. Leave it go too long an' you can't move, like you been turned to stone. Leave it go much longer'n _that_ an' it becomes permanent."

"Do you mean to tell me you can cast magic?" Loghain said.

"Course I can," Oghren said. "I ain't the hottest turd in the craphouse, but I know enough to get by."

"Back home, dwarves are incapable of casting magic. I suppose it figures that it's different here."

They left the tavern. Loghain began to walk south down the east end, but Oghren called him back. "Let's use the Moogling," he said. "It's quicker."

"The what?" Loghain said.

"The Moogling," Oghren repeated, and pointed to a moogle wearing a purple robe and a matching, pointy hat. "They'll teleport you to any other Moogling station in the city, and best of all, it's free."

"That's…weird," Loghain said. "What's in it for them?"

"Don't know. Don't care. Don't want to walk."

Loghain shrugged. "I'm willing to try it. Once."

"Southgate, my good man," Oghren said, and the moogle bowed, raised its hands, gestured, and quite suddenly the world disappeared.

It was a strange feeling, the sudden cessation of existence, only to be brought back in an instant, the interval almost too brief to be noticed - almost. Loghain stuck his hands out to his sides, certain that the earth was going to spin away beneath him, but the sense of vertigo left him and he stood steady with his feet planted on the ground - where they would remain thenceforward, if he had anything to say about it.

"I don't think I'll be doing that again," he said.

"Oh, don't be a wuss," Oghren said. "Come on; the nomad village is this'a way."

"I was hoping instead to go to Starfall Field," Loghain said. "There's someone there I'd like to meet, before she heads back to the city."

"Elilia, eh? All right, we'll track 'er down. Like as not she's fightin' werewolves."

Oghren led the way around the village, through the plains to the southwest. "You know, we had werewolves back home," Loghain said. "Dangerous foes, but they made powerful allies at the battle for Denerim."

Oghren chuckled. "Can't see anybody makin' allies outta _these_ werewolves."

Odd's colorful presence kept the local fiends at bay while they walked. Loghain saw wolf-like creatures, brown with black spots, that had sharp-looking horns on their noses like sickle blades. There were also tall, flightless birds with vaguely owl-like faces, and a two-legged creature with no arms and a massive head that looked like nothing Loghain had ever seen. Comfortingly familiar in appearance, rabbits cavorted across the desert hardpan, though they too were different from what he knew, with feathery ears like a moth's antennae.

"Look: there she is," Oghren said, and pointed. His stubby finger directed Loghain's gaze to the figure of a powerful woman engaged in fierce melee combat with a tall, bipedal, wolf-like animal. Another lay dead on the ground nearby. Judging from her height against that of the creature, which had to be seven feet tall, she herself must have been six feet or a little bit more. Her golden head shone in the desert sun. She wielded a two-handed sword with an ease many men could not match, and blood slathered her chainmail armor. Loghain felt his heart turn over in his chest, and a decided rise in his trousers. He pushed the feelings aside with difficulty.

They waited for her to slay the beast. Loghain asked Oghren to stay back.

"What I have to say to her is private, you understand," he said.

"Sure, sure. Speak yer piece. I'll go stand over by the gate crystal over yonder."

Loghain waited until the dwarf was out of sight before he approached the woman who now dressed out her massive kills.

"Elilia Cousland?" he ventured, when he was within a few feet of her. She looked up, startled. Her eyes were huge in her face, and crystal blue. _Cousland _blue. She had a black tattoo over her right eye and low on her left cheek. "I'm sorry I startled you. I just want to talk."

She wiped her face with the back of her hand, and transferred a great deal of blood to her cheek. "Do I…know you from somewhere?" she said. "You look kind of familiar."

"You may have seen my face before, but we have never met. I'm Loghain Mac Tir," Loghain said.

She bounced up like a jack-in-the-box. "Loghain Mac Tir? _The_ Loghain Mac Tir? That's incredible! This is an honor, Ser…an honor and a tragedy. If you're here, that means you died, doesn't it? What happened?"

"My death was no tragedy. Tragedy is the needless death of a young person," he said. "What you did…it was brave. But it was foolish. You should not have thrown your life away for your parents. You were young and strong. You might have escaped."

"Would you have run, when your father was dying and your mother was fighting?" Elilia asked.

"I did run. Because my father told me to. I would venture to guess your father told you to, as well."

She tossed her head. "Well, I guess I had a history of disobeying my parents that followed me into death. Is that why you came out here today? To rag on me for dying?"

He shook his head. "My apologies. My words were unintended, just a way to delay saying what I need to say to you. I couldn't have stopped him, for I did not know his plans, but I stood with him after, and for that, I am sorry. Whatever your father may have been messing with, you didn't deserve to die. Your mother didn't deserve to die. Your sister-in-law and your nephew didn't deserve to die."

"What my father may have been messing with? And what, pray tell, may my father have been messing with?" she asked.

"Orlais."

She appeared stunned. "My father wouldn't do that," she said, slowly and stiffly.

"I won't stand here and try to justify it," Loghain said. "There wasn't much evidence."

"What evidence _was_ there?" Elilia asked, shrilly.

"Documents, that looked to be in your father's hand."

"Saying what?" she asked.

"Saying that Cailan ought to set Anora aside and take a new wife. Celene."

"The Empress of Orlais? No. No, I don't believe it. They must have been forgeries."

"It's possible, I suppose. Howe was a sneaky bastard and I knew it well enough. I didn't feel I could afford to take the chance they were real, however."

Elilia sank into a squat and hugged her knees. She hid her face against her arms for a moment, and then she looked up, with fire in her eyes. "That bastard Howe…is he still alive?"

Loghain shook his head again. "The Warden did for him," he said.

"Good. Who's the Warden?" she asked.

"Kaldon Aeducan."

"You didn't have anything to do with the sacking of Highever," she said.

"Only after the fact."

She stood up. "I won't fault you for thinking it may have been necessary. Knowing that Howe got what was coming to him in the end brightens my day, though I wish it'd been me did the bastard in. Well. It's not every day one meets a…not-quite-living legend. When did you…get into town?"

"This morning, 'round about daybreak."

She blinked, and then looked from him to the dog to his burned-up pants. "It seems you've made good use of your time," she said. "Where are you staying?"

"I'll be taking a room at the Sandsea, if I have coin enough," he said.

She flapped a hand at him. "Save your coin. I have a perfectly good divan you can make use of." She laughed. "Lucky thing my mother isn't here to hear me offer the _Teyrn of Gwaren _a couch."

"I'm not Teyrn of anything any longer, and a couch would do me fine, but I wouldn't want to put you out like that," he said.

"You won't inconvenience me, and I'm pretty sure there's room on the floor for the dog. Just don't expect food. I never learned to cook, so I don't bother with it. I eat out."

"That's fine," Loghain said. "Though you mightn't be so kind to me if you knew the full extent of the things I did."

"What do you mean?" Elilia asked.

"It would take some time to tell in its entirety," he said. "We shouldn't stand out here boiling our brains while it's told. My companion and I were about to take on a hunt in the area; perhaps I could meet you somewhere private after that?"

"I'll tag along and watch you hunt, if you don't mind," Elilia said. "Then we can go to my place in Lowtown and you can tell me everything you think you need to tell me. Is that all you've got for a weapon, that little knife?"

"Yes. Borrowed from Tomaj at the Sandsea."

"What are you hunting?"

"Something called a cluckatrice. It sounds comical, but I expect it isn't. I'm told it's a formidable foe."

"I've never heard of it, but I expect it is. Here, you'd better take my sword." She held it out to him pommel-first. He took it.

"My thanks."

"Let me finish dressing out these beasts and I'll be ready to join you," she said, with a gesture at the werewolf corpses. Loghain nodded. She returned to her work with a certain gusto. Oghren rejoined them.

"Looked like yer talk was done," he said. "Did ya say everything that needed sayin'?"

"For the moment," Loghain said.

"I see she give ya her sword. I reckon you can take out the cluckatrice on yer own with that, if yer any good with it. That way you don't have t'split the piss poor bounty. I'll just watch yer back, and send a little magic yer way if ya need it."

"Appreciated."

The dwarf fell silent, and that gave Loghain the leisure to study the young woman about her task. With the tattoo on her face and an ear full of dangling fang teeth, she was somewhat outlandish to his eye, but still he found her attractive. He recognized that another man might not. Though her figure was womanly, she had broad shoulders and strong muscles that were not, strictly speaking. Her face, too, had something of a mannish accent to it, with a strong profile dominated by a beaky nose (not as beaky as his own by quite a margin, but a beak was a beak), an obstinate chin, and a brow that peaked perhaps too prominently for a woman. There was no chance of confusion - a woman she was, and a woman she appeared - but she had a great deal of what a charitable person might call "character" in her features and many uncharitable people might have called her ugly. Loghain, for his part, did not find her remotely ugly. When she killed werewolves, she was downright beautiful.

She finished tucking her spoils into her satchel. She used a complicated-looking magical gesture to make large things, like the massive swords the werewolves wielded, small enough to fit in her bag. That must have been the spell of "reversible miniaturization" Tomaj had told him about. It was perhaps the most improbable thing he'd ever seen, short perhaps of the bag that held a nearly unlimited amount of everything, but evidently it worked. He would have to learn it himself.

She stood up and dusted off her hands, which did next to nothing as the dust and dirt on them was stuck quite firmly in the blood that covered them. "I'm ready," she said. Loghain nodded once.

"All set? Nomad village is this way," Oghren said, and took the lead again. The local fiends continued to shy away from the dog and Elilia had leisure to talk, of which she chose to make use.

"What's his name?" she said, with a nod toward the dog.

"Odds Bodkins," Loghain said. "Odd for short."

"Where did you get him?"

"In the westersand. He was attacking caravans and I tried to drive him off. Instead, he decided to come along with me. I expect he'll make himself useful."

"I had a mabari back home. Kiveal. He died defending me that last night. I miss him."

"I had a mabari once myself. I still miss her, and she died when I was no more than a lad."

"What was her name?"

"Adalla."

She fell silent then, and they came to the tiny nomad village. There were no men in the village, for they were all off herding. Only women and a few children were about. In a small corral surrounded by fat, brown birds, which Loghain assumed were cockatrices, he found Dania, the herdswoman who petitioned his hunt. She directed him to a place she called the north bank, and said that his quarry was shy.

"I don't know how you'll force it out of its nest," she said, "but you must do something. I haven't been able to walk the cockatrices in a week. Ever since its chicks were born, it's been in a foul mood."

"I'll find it," Loghain said. "If it's shy, then likely it'll come out of hiding when nothing's around to bother it."

Oghren led the way east out of the village to what he said was the north bank area. The north bank of what Loghain couldn't say, for the plain was as dry as a bone. Already he felt thirsty. He had a lot of which to acclimate himself.

He set himself to clear the area of animals. Odd was tremendous help in this, for nothing there was on the plain that could outrun him and his jaws made quick work of anything onto which they latched. Not lazy but practical, he allowed the dog to do the work of clearing up, for to kill rabbits and wolf creatures with a greatsword was ridiculous, in his opinion. He brought down the one tall humpbacked creature, one of the strange animals with no forelimbs that was mostly all head and powerful, hoofed legs. He cleaned up the carcasses as best he could to leave the area clear, and Odd helped with that, too, by eating a good portion of them, and then he and the others returned to the nomad village, where he learned the refreshment of touching the gate crystal that stood at the southern end of the little village. It didn't make him less thirsty, but he felt stronger and more alert the instant he placed his hand on it.

They waited for the half of an hour in the village, long enough, Loghain felt, that even a very smart animal would judge the killing spree to be over and done with. Then he led the way back to the north bank, his bare feet hot but silent on the hardpan of the desert. He saw a roly-poly yellow bird that rolled around like a ball. It was the size of one of the mid-sized cockatrices and probably weighed fifty pounds.

"That's one of the chicks," Oghren said, in a near whisper. "You'll have to get rid of 'em. When you do, mama bird'll come runnin'."

Loghain turned to Odd and pointed at the chick-_atrice? _he wondered idly. "Go get it," he said, and the dog immediately complied. The chick died with a squawk in Odd's powerful jaws.

Loghain heard a loud noise, a sound like a thousand pound chicken squawk. He looked to see a bird that might well have weighed that much barrel up to them. Two fat chicks followed close on its steps. Loghain readied his borrowed sword. "Odd, kill chicks," he commanded, uncertain that the dog would know what he said. He launched himself at the larger bird and swung the blade with both hands. Odd pounced on one of the chicks like a cat on a mouse.

The blade bit deep into the cluckatrice's flesh, but though grievously wounded, the bird survived and continued to fight. It squawked again and tried to peck at him. It might well have pecked clean through him if the beak landed, but the wound slowed the creature and he was able to sidestep. He swung the sword again. If the bird had a neck he could have cut its head off with the blow, but the creature's face sat directly onto its rotund body. Instead, he left another slash that hindered but did not slay. He drew back the blade for one more attempt as the bird gathered itself for another attack, and jammed the sword straight into its mouth. The weight of the bird's own attack pushed it farther onto the blade, and it fell to the earth with a crash. Odd had already dispatched the two chicks.

Loghain wiped the sweat from his brow. The day heated up. Each time he thought it could get no hotter he was proven wrong. At least the work was done and he could think about coming in out of the sun. He handed Elilia back her sword. "Thank you," he said.

"You did that pretty good, Longshanks," Oghren said. "I didn't have to break a sweat over ya."

"Look at all that meat," Elilia said. "I bet someone would pay you a lot of coin for a bird like that."

"I don't think I'd care to pack it out of here," Loghain said.

"I know a spell that makes it easy. I don't suppose you've learned much magic yet, being new here and all?" Elilia said.

"I know a basic spell of healing, but that's all thus far."

"You came to terms with it fast. I mean, you couldn't cast magic before, could you?" Elilia said.

Loghain's mouth curved in an unwilling smile. "No, I couldn't."

"It took me a long time to accept that I have magic now. I kept expecting to…I don't know, burst into flames or something. It took me a long time to accept any of this, really. I spent my first few days trembling on the floor of Migelo's stockroom. I certainly didn't go out hunting my first day in town."

"You had a traumatic experience. It's to be expected that it would be hard to get over," Loghain said. "And then to be thrust from everything you knew into a world full of strangeness…it's a wonder you didn't lose your sanity."

"_You _didn't. How was your death? Peaceful? I somehow doubt it."

"I was old, ready for death. It comes as no trauma to me. You were young."

"You weren't that old," Elilia said. "I _crumbled_. Like a stale cookie. I never knew I could be so weak."

"What do you want? Comfort?" he said. "I understand why you crumbled. Believe me, I do. I could curl up and cry right now. But what would that serve me? Life throws unexpected things at you, and it seems to me now that death throws even more. I could weep and wail and hope that some kind soul would take pity on me, but in my experience such people are few and far between. I couldn't get by without help - a pair of trou, a borrowed weapon, some advice, a place to sleep - because I am at sea and I don't know what I'm doing here, but the onus is on me to take care of myself, as much as I can, because it's damned sure nobody is going to do it for me. Beating yourself up over your mistakes serves no purpose. You already know you did wrong, or you wouldn't feel badly about it. Learn from it. Don't ever do it again. Pick your chin up and plod on."

For a moment, it looked as though she might cry, but then she squared her shoulders. "Right," she said. She knelt down beside the body of the cluckatrice and made that complicated gesture again, and the carcass shrank to a miniature size. She picked it up and handed it to him. "There you go. Bite sized. I can turn it back to full size when you want to sell it, but I have to be there. I can't teach you the spell so you can license it; you have to learn it from a professional."

"I'm going to have to learn that one," he said, and stowed the bird away in his satchel. Odd sat and panted next to his own kills, and looked carefully innocent and unconcerned with the meat laying about him. "All right, you glutton, eat your fill," Loghain said, and the dog barked once before it set to the task of cleaning up the chicks.

"You know, you were a little hard on her," Oghren said to him, in a low voice. "I mean, she _died."_

"So did I," Loghain said.

"Yeah, but she's just a kid."

"She's old enough to learn," Loghain said. And he would teach her. He saw strength in her. Physical strength, yes, she proved that by the way she dealt with those monstrous werewolves. But he sensed a strength of will and of character as well. He could hone those traits, turn her into something stronger. A pity they weren't home in Ferelden. She suffered a disturbing dearth of strength in her young people these days. Damn Howe and his idiot ambition: justified or un-, it wasn't worth this one young life. She might have meant something to Ferelden's future. Now she was, apparently, the future of Dalmasca, about which he cared very little.

He started back to the village, and the others followed him. He spoke to Dania, the herdswoman, and she handed over the bounty she'd posted. In addition to a pouch heavy with silver coins, she gave him a sturdy pair of jackboots several sizes too small for him and an egg of rainbow hues, the size of his two fists together.

"A thousand gil an' a rainbow egg?" Oghren said. "Damn, I'm wishin' now we had split that bounty."

"What's so special about this egg?" Loghain asked.

"It's an axebeak egg, and rare. Rich folks have a powerful taste for 'em. With the right connections, you could sell that for a bundle."

"I don't have the right connections," Loghain said.

"I know a guy," Elilia said. "Varric, at the clan hall. He knows all the lords and richest merchants. He could sell your egg for you. And you can get those boots fitted cheap at any cobbler. They do it with magic. I have to have everything sized specially, too. Human gear is too small and bangaa gear is too big."

"Just out of curiosity, are you planning to do anything with the meat?" Dania asked. "The village would be more than happy to take it off your hands. You could…probably get more in the city for it, though."

Loghain reached into his satchel and pulled out the miniaturized carcass. "If your people need the meat you're welcome to it. Make it big again, won't you, please, Elilia?"

They put the carcass in the middle of the village clearing and Elilia worked her spell over it. Dania said the village could raise an additional three hundred gil for it.

"You could get five hundred in Rabanastre, easy," Oghren said, in a grunt.

"Payment won't be necessary," Loghain said. "I don't need the meat and your people do. It should feed you well."

"Oh, we must give you something for it," Dania said.

"No. The meat is yours."

"Well, that's very kind of you. Thank you very much," Dania said.

"Pray don't mention it."

"At least take the three hundred," Oghren said.

"If you want a say in the disposition of the carcass, throw a hand in next time," Loghain said.

"Fine, fine. Do what you want," Oghren said.

They returned to Rabanastre. In the Southgate courtyard, Loghain turned to Oghren and offered his hand. "I thank you for coming along, Oghren," he said. "It may have been a waste of your time, but it is good to have backup."

Oghren shook with him. "Yer welcome, Longshanks. Now if you don't mind, there's a pint at the Sandsea with my name on it."

"I doubt there's just the one," Loghain said. Oghren laughed his beery laugh.

Elilia pointed to the large, round freight door set into the east wall of the courtyard. Loghain remembered coming up from Lowtown through that door with Migelo. "You can reach Lowtown and my place pretty easily if you take this door," she said. "If you still want to have that talk. You can put your egg in my ice chest."

"Oh, a little _'afternoon delight,' _eh? 'Put yer egg in my ice chest;' I hadn't heard that one before," Oghren said.

"His _rainbow egg_. In my ice chest, where I keep my ice magicite," Elilia said.

"Sure, sure. You kids have fun. Name it after me, won'tcha? Tee hee." Oghren sauntered over to the Moogling attendant, said "The Sandsea," and disappeared in a flash with a wave of the moogle's paw.

"There's a thought," Loghain said. "A child named Slimy Drunken Greaseball."

Elilia gave no sign that she heard him. She looked at him, and on her face there was a definite uncertainty.

"If the clod has got you worried about propriety, don't," Loghain said. "I presume you have a front door. We can leave it open."

"No, it's not that," she said. "Never mind. It's this way."

She led him down into the dark and cool. Perhaps there was something to be said for Lowtown after all; after the heat of the day, even the stench didn't seem like too much to put up with. It was nearly noon now, and the Lowtown "streets" were crowded with people whom clearly only sought to escape the heat of the day. They lounged in doorways or right out against the walls. It looked like a splendid place to be robbed. Loghain kept a hand on his coin purse and the other hand on his borrowed knife.

"Right in here," Elilia said, and opened a door in the North Sprawl that was close to the slowly rotating fans that feebly stirred the stale air. Loghain let Odd enter first. Elilia came in after Loghain and, though she evinced some hesitation, closed the door. "There we go. Now we have some privacy."

She led him into a small and obviously virtually unused kitchen, where they were able to sit at a tiny dining table designed for two people only. Elilia washed her bloody hands at a small basin that had running water, much to Loghain's surprise. She dried them off on a towel and put coffee into a percolator on a stove that seemed to burn no fuel. "Have you had this stuff yet? It's wild."

"Coffee? Yes, I had a cup this morning. It's got quite a kick to it."

"I can't drink tea anymore," Elilia said. "They don't make it right around here, anyway; it's bland."

She sat down across from him. "All right. You…had something you wanted to tell me."

He shook his head. "I don't _want_ to, far from it. But I need to. You need to know who it is you're dealing with."

There was an empty cup on the table in front of him. He looked down into it and spun it in his hands. "I'm not much of a talker," he said, with a rueful smile. "I've probably said more today than I've said in the past few years put together. Something about this…lunatic situation I've found myself in seems to have unhinged my jaw considerably. But it's hard to say what I have to say. You grew up on stories of Loghain the Hero, even though I was lowborn and the nobility mostly hated me."

"My father didn't," Elilia said. "He had great respect for you. My tutor, Brother Aldous, spoke your name with greater emphasis than that of King Maric."

"You see? You have some image of me riding in to save the day. That's the job I was tasked with, long ago, though I fought to deny it, but I did try to do it, to the best of my ability, at all times. But I'm not some hero of legend. I'm just a man, and I make mistakes. I've made some terrible ones."

"Maybe this should wait until the coffee is ready," Elilia said. "Hard words need something to wash them down with."

He smiled a rueful smile again. "They do at that."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Dragon Age, Final Fantasy, _etc, or any of its related characters. This is just for my own enjoyment and the potential enjoyment of other fans like me, and no monetary gain was expected or received.

**Rating: **M

**Spoilers: **May contain spoilers for _Origins_, _Origins_ DL content, and _Dragon Age II _as well as the novels _The Stolen Throne _and _The Calling_. May also contain spoilers for _Final Fantasy XII_, _Final Fantasy XIII_, _Final Fantasy XIII-2_, _Dungeons and Dragons_, and Harry Potter.

* * *

**Chapter Two: The Conversation**

Elilia poured the coffee, and they both sat in silence and watched it cool. Finally he raised his cup to his lips and ventured a sip. The drink kicked him in the adenoids on the way down his throat. He replaced the cup in its saucer.

"Cailan is dead," he said, without preamble. "He died at Ostagar, along with the better part of our armed forces, fighting the darkspawn. They died because I left them there. I was on the flanking charge. I never called it. I ordered a retreat instead."

She blinked. "I presume you had a good reason."

"I thought I did. I was afraid, you see. Cailan pushed to let Orlesian troops into the country to help us fight the darkspawn. They were supposed to come in aid to the Grey Wardens of Orlais. Cailan seemed to think they would quietly leave when the darkspawn were dealt with, but I had my own thoughts on that score. I tried to make Cailan understand what that would mean to the nation, but he insisted our quarrels with Orlais were in the past. All I could see was the past coming back around to bite us in the ass."

"So you left him," Elilia said.

He shook his head. "That's not why I called the retreat. I would have fought Cailan tooth and nail for years, if need be, to keep him from throwing Ferelden to the wolves. I called the retreat because when the signal finally came, it was late enough that I felt certain there'd been some trickery on the part of the Grey Wardens, who were to light it. Rather than send my men into a trap, I called a retreat to save what I could. I abandoned my king and my men because I mistrusted the Wardens. I regret the men who lost their lives, but I can't bring myself to regret the loss of Cailan very much. He was a fool, and he met a fool's end. The bastard _was_ plotting to set Anora aside and marry Celene, whether your father had anything to do with putting the idea into his head or not. I didn't know it when I left him, but when I found out I found I was rather glad things worked out the way they did."

"So am I," Elilia said. "He would have destroyed Ferelden."

"The rest of the nobility didn't agree. I tried to pull them together against the threat I perceived from Orlais, but a good number of them rebelled against me. There was civil war."

"Idiots," Elilia said.

"Some of them, no doubt about it. Eager to make a grasp for the throne with Cailan gone. Others believed me a traitor; that I willfully left Cailan to die because I disagreed with his politics."

"I suppose I can see that," she said. "Still, talk about a bad time to be at odds. Did Orlais invade?"

He shook his head. "She hasn't, to date. As it turned out, the darkspawn were a greater threat than I imagined. It was a true Blight. Orlais didn't invade, but the darkspawn did. Most of the south was overrun. West Hills. South Reach. We were so busy fighting each other there was no one to fight the darkspawn except the two surviving Grey Wardens, who spent most of the past year gathering what allies against the darkspawn they could find. The dwarves of Orzammar, the Dalish elves, the Circle of Magi. They did all this even though I set an assassin after them, one of the Antivan Crows. Then when they showed up in Denerim, the damned assassin was with them - one of their companions! They thwarted me at every turn. I say 'they' but it was really just the dwarf. Aeducan."

"What was a prince of Orzammar doing in the Grey Wardens?" Elilia asked.

He shrugged. "I never asked. King Endrin died sometime thereabouts of Ostagar, and there was a bit of intrigue surrounding the succession. Some advisor of his got the nod, a fellow named Harrowmont. I never heard what happened to the three sons, so how one of them ended up with the Wardens is beyond my ken."

"You don't take much interest in the intrigues of foreign courts, do you?" Elilia said.

He shook his head. "I had enough trouble keeping up with the intrigues of the _Ferelden _court. Orzammar's king troubles were of interest in so far as they affected dwarven trade, but beyond that they were free to go to hell in their own unique way, for all I cared."

Elilia got up and poured herself a second cup of coffee. She raised the pot in offer. "More?"

"Thank you, I'm good," Loghain said, with a hand over his cup.

She sat back down and took a sip. "So you called a retreat and the nobility didn't like it. I fail to see where the horror comes in. You had me thinking you were going to confess to the murder of Andraste."

"I'm not finished. Someone sent an amateur assassin after Arl Eamon. The assassin claimed it was me."

She put down her cup and it clattered in the saucer. "Well, did you?"

He shook his head. "I don't remember."

"You don't remember? I'd think a thing like that wouldn't slip your mind," she said.

"It's strange. Much of the past year was…strange. Muzzy. Like I was looking through cheesecloth. I can't really explain it. Perhaps I was sick. If I did do it, I could make a claim to madness, for sending a rank amateur on so delicate a mission was nearly bound to fail, and it did. Eamon was saved, and the assassin caught."

"I notice you don't seem particularly upset that someone tried to kill the man, just perhaps that they tried to pin it on you," she said.

"I might well have thought to kill Eamon, but I would hope to the Maker I'd have gone about it more intelligently. I always thought the man, with his Orlesian leanings, was dangerous, and I know now that he was one of the nobles urging Cailan to set Anora aside, though the slick bastard never did come out and mention anything about Celene, at least not in the letters I found. My only regret about the plot, whoever set it up, is that it failed."

"Is there anyone who might have set up the assassination in your name? Perhaps to hurt your cause?" she asked.

"Howe. Not to hurt my cause, no, I don't believe, but to aid it…with a little added insurance thrown in on the side. He had one of the templars that hunted the assassin - a runaway mage - in his dungeon. Not just any templar, but the brother of Bann Alfstanna. He was pretty far gone in lyrium withdrawal, but he claimed that men bearing my shield took the maleficar from them. Howe was the only man, aside from me, who had the power to order my men to do anything."

"Why keep the templar, though? He had to know if someone found him, it would go badly for you," Elilia said.

"Insurance, like I said. Of course the templar couldn't be released to tell his story, but the only reason I can think of to keep such a man alive is to ensure that if things went badly, there'd be someone reliable there to pin all the blame on me and not Howe. But as I said, I don't even know whether I ordered my men to capture him or not, so it's all speculation."

"It was Howe," Elilia said, decisively. "That snaky bastard. I can't imagine why you would ever think to put any trust in him."

"I didn't put much trust in him. Less, I would imagine, than your father. Than you."

"A fair point. Until he murdered us, I had no idea what a rat bastard he really was. I just always thought him a bit disingenuous. And smarmy," Elilia said. "He was so very condescending towards me for my training as a warrior. And he was always trying to set me up with his son, that lush Thomas. He tried that again the very day he sent his men against us. I don't know why. To make it seem that all was as normal?"

"I should think it likely. He must have been planning his attack for days at the least."

Her mouth turned down in a pout. "I wonder if he'd have let my parents live if I'd accepted."

"Doubtful. He wanted the teyrnir, not a wife for his drunken son."

"I hope you're right. I don't like to think I might have caused their deaths by refusing every suitor."

"Your parents had the authority to _make _you accept Thomas Howe's marriage suit. The fact that they did not, nor the suit of any other noble jackanapes that came calling after you, suggests to me they wanted you to be happy, not politically apposite. Don't hold to guilt you don't own, girl."

She sipped her coffee in silence for a moment. Then she put down her cup and said, "So you made a tough decision that resulted in unfortunate circumstances, and you may or may not have ordered an assassination. Anything else?"

"Unfortunately," he said. He took a sip of his own coffee. "I signed a contract with a group of Tevinter slavers. I sold the elves of Denerim's alienage into slavery. Howe's idea, but I signed the contract. Their lives are on my head."

She blinked several times, rapidly. "Why would you do something like that?"

He sighed. "There was much unrest in the alienage. A group of elves broke into the Arl of Denerim's estate and killed a few guards and Lord Vaughan. No great loss, as far as I'm concerned, but Howe came back from Ostagar and took over the arling, and he put the heel hard to the alienage in retribution. There were riots, general slaughter…and then the whole place came down with plague. There seemed no clear solution to what was wrong in the alienage, and it seemed all the elves would die. The Tevinters had magic, the means to cure the sickness. I felt it was the lesser evil to let them take what they needed from the community in exchange for healing."

"That's horrible," Elilia said, "…but I think I understand."

He shook his head again. "There were other solutions. Somehow or other I just never managed to think of any of them."

"What could you do? Thanks to the Chantry's grip on the mages, there was little chance you could get them healing on your own."

"To clean the place up would have been a help," Loghain said. "Sickness breeds in filth, and Howe left corpses lay to rot for days. 'To discourage further unrest,' he said. Like his foot soldiers weren't discouragement enough."

"It sounds like you didn't have the coin for a massive clean-up effort," Elilia said.

"I didn't. Even so, I should have done something. Something other than sign over Fereldan lives for a hundred sovereigns a head."

She whistled. "I can't imagine that a lot of Ferelden noblemen wouldn't have signed over elven lives for a lot less than that."

"_Freedom _is worth more. I built my life around that very tenet. I can't say why I did this…horrible thing, not for certain, but I know that I sold out my most basic ideals to do it. You said nothing, but I sensed that you agreed with Oghren, that I should take the nomad's coin for the cluckatrice meat. If I were being as practical as is my usual wont, I would have done. But I have a lot to atone for, so I must take any small opportunity to do a kindness. I can't make up for what I did, but I can proceed in a better fashion."

She smiled, slightly. "Chin up and plod on, eh?"

He nodded. "Just so."

"Are you very certain that you're not just beating yourself up over it all?" she asked. "Because you know that serves no purpose."

"It does not, but anyone who would associate with me deserves to know the truth."

She stood up, leaned across the table, and kissed him on the cheek. She sat back down, her face ablush. Loghain, for his part, was fairly stunned. "I hope to the Maker I would never find myself in a position where selling people into slavery seemed like the best choice," she said, "but I think perhaps it was, given the situation. Having experienced death firsthand, I can honestly say I would rather be a slave than dead, even knowing that something might come after. There's always the hope, at least, of escape. I don't know how long it was between the time I died and the time I was reborn here, but there's…nothing. Nothing at all, from that time. Just blackness. I greatly fear that for most people, that's what death is. Just a blank."

"I was unconscious when I first…'arrived' here," Loghain said. "Are you so certain that the transition wasn't instant, and that the blackness you felt was just unconsciousness and nothing more? I find it hard to believe that we'd be here if all ceased after death. That we exist seems to verify the existence of our souls; something there must be after death for all the other souls who aren't brought back in this fashion."

"I hope you're right," she said, but the doubt in her voice was evident.

He sat back in his chair and placed both hands flat upon the table. "Well, I said my piece, and a little bit more. There's really nothing more to say."

She stood up. "I'll be right back," she said, and disappeared into another room. She returned in a few moments with a large jar in her hands. She pulled out the cork and set it down in front of him.

"What's this?" he asked.

"It's a salve. Sun-salve, they call it. Put it on your skin, it keeps you from burning and heals what's burnt already. You're pretty red. Sticking a Fereldan in the sun is like dropping a chunk of ice into a pot of boiling fat. Dangerous."

"I take it then you don't have anything more to say about what I told you, either," he said.

Her eyes went a trifle wild. "Dwelling on it serves us nothing. It's time to move forward."

"You're a quick study," he said, and dabbed a bit of the sun-salve onto the end of his nose. Elilia scooped up a dollop on her fingers and rubbed it onto his back and shoulders. She had big hands, for a woman, and strong. He felt himself relax into her touch, which served to tense him up more tightly than he was in the first place. This was dangerous territory. It was best to tread as if on eggshells.

"You knotted up faster than my thread when mother made me embroider," Elilia said, with a laugh in her voice. "Don't like to be touched, eh?"

"Somehow I can't picture you engaged in embroidery," Loghain said, in a cautious change of subject.

"I was never much good at it, but mother did her best to turn me into a proper young lady of court. I think she gave up somewhere around the time I got this tattoo on my face. I suppose Anora was excellent at it."

"She did it, when there was nothing better to do," Loghain said. "Would it surprise you very much to know that I did it, too?"

"You're shitting me," Elilia said.

"I shit you not," he said. "My wife turned me onto it. She said it would be calming. I can't say as I ever found it so, but I tried."

"Talk about people you can't picture embroidering."

"Celia tried many ways of civilizing me. None of them took."

"Did she ever give up on you?" Elilia asked.

"I can't say as she did," he said. "But then, I never got myself a tattoo on my face."

"You should, it'd look great," she said. She bounced around to the other side of the table and put her empty coffee cup in the sink. "Listen, I'm hungry. How about we head to the Sandsea for lunch? My treat."

Loghain shook his head. "I appreciate the offer, but I've eaten two meals already this morning. No, I think my time is best served by finding a clothier. I stand in desperate need of a shirt."

"You look pretty good without one," she said, clearly flirtatious. Loghain was almost as stunned as when she kissed him.

He cleared his throat. "Yes. Well. I'd…best be going, then." He stood up and whistled to Odd. "I'll make my own arrangements for housing tonight."

"You don't have to do that," she said. "My door is open."

"I know it is. That's what worries me."

"What?"

"Nothing. I'll see you around, Miss Cousland."

"Well I like that. The first Fereldan I've seen in a year and I get brushed off like a poor relation," Elilia said.

"I'm not giving you the brush," Loghain said. "I know we'll see each other again, I simply don't know when."

"Well, let's make a plan. You've joined the clan, right? I saw the primer poking out of your pocket. Meet me at the clan hall in three hours. It'll be cooler then, we can go out hunting. Then we'll come in and I'll treat to supper."

"Do you really hunt with a greatsword?" Loghain asked.

"Hey, you saw those werewolves. There's some serious game around here."

"Well, do what you will, but I should think a good longbow would be of more use to you."

"I'm not much of an archer," she said. "I suppose you're an expert marksman."

"I wouldn't say that, but the bow was my primary weapon until River Dane."

"What made you change to the sword?"

"I became a general. I had to be at the front of the lines. Archers stand behind them."

"Maybe you could teach me to shoot someday," Elilia said.

"If you'd care to learn, that could be arranged," Loghain said. "I'll see you at the clan hall, serrah."

Loghain left Lowtown and explored the streets of Rabanastre until he found a men's clothing store. He purchased a couple of shirts and a pair of trousers, enough he felt to get him by for the next few days, and the clothier was able to direct him to a cobbler where his new boots were fitted to his feet. Thus attired, he proceeded into the estersand and hunted, despite the heat that used him up quickly. He didn't yet have a map so he didn't venture too far into the twisting maze of arroyos beyond the small trader's outpost. He nodded to a bangaa spearman who patrolled the area and tried to keep the caravan routes clear. After he scouted the region as far as he dared he returned to the city and got a drink of water. From then on he restricted himself to the first open area of the desert, before the outpost.

There was plenty of game. Every wolf he killed was replaced within a matter of minutes. He even saw one appear, coalesced out of the very substance of the air, it seemed. He wondered if it looked much the same when he was brought to this world.

He brought the pelts he took to a furrier in the Muthru Bazaar. They weren't worth much individually, but all together they put quite a few coins into his pocket. He purchased a good hunting knife at the bazaar and then took his remaining coin to Amal's Weaponry, where he purchased a sturdy iron sword that was much like the one he carried in Ferelden. It came with a leather shoulder scabbard. He strapped it on and finally felt dressed.

He returned Tomaj's knife to him at the Sandsea, with his thanks for the loan. While he was there he looked for Elilia, but she was nowhere to be seen. Probably she was back home already, in the cool of Lowtown, or otherwise at the clan hall. He knew he would have to tread carefully around her. Even though her flirtation was doubtless totally innocent, it was still dangerous. He was too attracted to her, and a friendly face in these strange surroundings was a strong temptation. It was a long time since he last felt much of anything towards a woman.

It was too early to meet her at the clan hall, but he headed in that direction anyway. It would be cooler there, at the very least. He could be one of the multitudes that lounged on the stairs. Even with the sun-salve, he felt baked. He needed a moment out of the sun to rest.

The bangaa doorman nodded to him as he entered. The clan hall looked very much the same as it had that morning, with many of the same people planted on the stairs or against the walls. Elilia was there. She sat on the stairs and talked to the blond-haired dwarf who'd known where she was hunting. She glanced up and caught sight of Loghain. She gestured him to come over. He did so, not without misgivings.

"Did you bring your egg?" she asked.

He reached into his satchel and pulled out the wolf pelt in which the rainbow-hued axebeak egg was wrapped. He was pleased to see the egg remained unbroken. Elilia reached out for it and he allowed her to take it. She passed it to the dwarf.

"What do you think, Varric?" she asked.

"I think I can get a nice price for this. I could get you maybe six hundred gil right here in town, but if I sell it in Archades I bet I could get you a thousand," Varric said. "The rich folks in Archades are even richer than the rich folks here in Rabanastre, with more money to spend on trivialities like axebeak eggs. Then, too, they don't get their hands on them as often."

"How far away is Archades?" Loghain asked.

"Oh, miles and miles. It doesn't matter, because I've been there, so I can use the gate crystal to get there now," Varric said. "All I require is two teleport stones and a twenty gil finder's fee. Two hundred and twenty gil, if I have to supply my own teleport stones. Actually, if you don't have any teleport stones it would be better for you most likely if I sold your egg right here in Rabanastre for the lesser price."

Loghain rummaged in his satchel until he found one of the small orange stones that were part of the bounty on the rogue tomato and Odd. "That's these things, correct?"

"That's right. If you'd care to hang around here where I can easily find you, it shouldn't take me more than an hour, tops."

Loghain fished out his second teleport stone and handed them both over. "You understand that if you rook me, I will track you down and kill you, correct? Nothing personal, mind; just letting you know where we stand."

"The straightforward type. I get you," Varric said. "I will return, never fear. Of all the things I don't need, a giant, angry hume is a big one."

Varric left the clan hall. Elilia patted the stair next to her. "Come, sit with me. I think there's still some things we need to talk about."

He sat down, warily. "All right, I suppose that's fair enough to say. What do you want to know?"

"How did you leave things? I know that the king is dead and there was a Blight and civil war, but are things under control now?"

"More or less. Anora rules as queen, the nobles have come together - again, more or less - and the Blight…well, that's _supposed_ to be over now. Whether it truly is or is not is a question of some moment to me."

"So the Archdemon was slain. Did you see it?" she asked, and her eyes glittered with excitement.

"I saw it. I _slew_ it."

"I thought only the Grey Wardens could do that," she said.

"I was a Grey Warden. It was my punishment for the things I did."

She was silent for a long moment. "If you were a Grey Warden, and you killed the Archdemon, how did you end up here? If it's not too painful to talk about, that is."

"Killing the Archdemon is a fatal business," Loghain said. "Its soul enters the body of the nearest corrupted individual. If that individual is a darkspawn, the Archdemon is reborn to live again. When that individual is a Grey Warden, however, both are destroyed. At least, that's what was supposed to happen. It didn't, not exactly, not if I'm here now. But if it interrupted the Archdemon's rebirth then I suppose it was worth it all the same."

"It must have," Elilia said. "You did die. That you live again is immaterial. You're not in the same world any longer. The Archdemon isn't, either, whether it lives or not."

"I hope you're right."

She studied the hands that lay folded in her lap for a moment. "I can't believe you were sentenced to death," she said at last.

"I wasn't. I was sentenced to redemption. That's the way I look at it."

"Slay the Archdemon, regain your honor, something like that?" she said.

"Exactly."

"Did you know it would kill you when they sentenced you to it? The Grey Wardens like their secrets."

"I didn't know, and neither did Aeducan. Can't say either of us was displeased to learn of it, though. He had a way to live and I had a way to die useful, which is all I've ever asked out of life," Loghain said.

"Seems to me a man could afford to ask a little bit more out of life than that," she said.

"What more did I need? Nothing."

"You never once, in all your years, wanted for anything more than what you had?"

"I did. But I learned. Some things will always be out of reach. It's worthless to pine for them."

"You were Teyrn of Gwaren. Just what was out of your reach?" she asked.

"Some things are always out of reach," he said again, and would say no more.

They sat in silence for a time, until Elilia found another question to ask. "How's Anora? I suppose she's happy enough, being queen."

"She was fine the last I knew."

"No offense intended, but she always made me a bit nervous. She was always so put-together," Elilia said.

"She always made me a bit nervous, too, for different reasons."

Elilia seemed to hesitate on the verge of saying something. Loghain guessed that whatever she hesitated to say was the one thing she truly wanted to know. Finally she had out with it.

"Is Fergus still alive?" she asked, with an air of having the worst over with.

"His scouting party went missing before the battle at Ostagar," Loghain said.

"So. The Couslands are extinct," she said.

"No they're not," he said. "You're still alive."

"You know what I meant," she said. She rested her chin on the heel of her hand. "The Couslands are extinct, the Theirins are extinct, the Mac Tirs are extinct, the Howes are probably in disgrace…Ferelden is running short of nobility these days."

"Does the thought bother you?" he asked.

"Of course it does. Who's running things now?"

"The same cast of idiots that always did run things. They've probably just moved a few of them up a notch or two."

"I suppose things will look pretty much the same as ever once things settle down," Elilia said. "Still, it's hard to imagine. I wonder what King Maric would have made of this mess?"

"If he were alive, none of it would have happened," Loghain said.

"Do you really think he could have changed things?" she asked.

"I know he could have. Elilia, this third Mist-born person; Tomaj at the Sandsea told me his name was Mark, but he didn't sound too certain of it. Is it him? Is it Maric? The time frame matches up."

"I don't know," Elilia said. "I've kept my nose out of Dalmascan politics. Apart from the fact that he's a nobleman here in the city, I don't know anything about him, including his name. Someone would know. Ask Montblanc."

"I'm not so certain I truly want to know. How could I ever look him in the eye after what I've done?"

"Scared?" she asked, not without a hint of a tease in her voice.

"Perhaps I am," he said. He put his hands on his knees and pushed himself to his feet. "Sitting around worrying isn't the answer, is it?"

He climbed the stairs to where Montblanc stood, on the balcony railing as he did that morning. Loghain would have been worried for the little creature, but for the small pair of golden, batlike wings that stuck out through the back of the moogle's doublet. They didn't look like they were much use, but perhaps they were enough to break a fall. Certainly Montblanc himself didn't seem worried.

"Excuse me, Ser," Loghain said. "I was wondering if perhaps you could tell me the name of the other Mist-born fellow here in the city."

"You mean Lord Maric, kupo?" Montblanc said.

"It is Maric. I knew. I hoped otherwise, when I heard his name, but I knew. He's from Ferelden, isn't he?" Loghain said.

"He was King, or so he says."

"He was."

"You knew him, then? Personally, kupo?"

"He was my best friend."

"Well, that's wonderful news! I believe he is not in the city at this time, kupo, but a message could be left in his apartments for him. I am sure he would be happy to see you again," Montblanc said.

"Not when he hears what I have to tell him. A message won't be necessary: he'll find me. The less I want to see him, the sooner it will happen. As sure as the spring rains."

"It only rains in the winter around here, kupo," Montblanc said.

"Oh? Even so."

"Well, if you change your mind about leaving that message, kupo, let me know," Montblanc said. "I can send word to Lord Maric's seneschal at any time."

"Thank you. I may take you up on that if time should prove me wrong."

Loghain went back to the stairs and sat down next to Elilia again. "It is him. I can hardly believe it, but it has the flavor of destiny to it. Three people taken from the realm of death and given rebirth in the same strange world, and all three of them from the same nation? Someone has something in mind. I don't know that I care to find out what."

"So, King Maric is alive," Elilia said. "I find that quite good news. He was always uncommonly jolly, for a king."

"Jolly? Yes, I suppose. When he wasn't stuck in a mood."

"Says the man in the blackest mood for the longest time," Elilia said.

"I am not moody," Loghain said. "I am perpetually angry. There's a difference."

"What difference exactly?" she asked.

"The perpetually angry man is driven to do something about that which makes him angry. The moody man is driven to do nothing but sit and mope."

She shrugged. "Well, you knew King Maric far better than I, but I retain fond memories of him all the same. I wonder if he would remember me. He laughed so when I got my tattoo."

"Maric _would_ find that funny. I've been meaning to ask; did you have it redone or did it make the crossing with you? I didn't notice whether my ink passed through the eye of death or not."

"You mean that circle on your arm with the funny looking writing? It's there. Mine crossed over, too. Proof that the gods have a sense of humor, I suppose. What does yours mean? Tattoos should have a meaning, particularly when there's lettering involved. Mine just means I didn't want my parents to accept Vaughan Kendalls' marriage suit," she said.

"Supposedly it's Dalish for 'Night Elves watch the line.' The Night Elves were my first company. You probably wouldn't know about them," Loghain said. "They didn't receive too many accolades, though they deserved them."

"Were they really elves?"

"All but for me." He grunted a laugh at that.

"You got any other ink hidden away where I can't see it?" she asked.

"No, that's the only tattoo I ever saw fit to disfigure myself with. My mother made it clear to me long ago that she didn't approve of tattoos, at least on me."

"It's hard to picture you with a mother. As a child, that is. I just see a short, surly you when I try to imagine it," she said.

"You're probably not too far off the mark. Except for the fact that my mother always saw to it my hair was well trimmed, I don't think I've changed overmuch since my childhood. Not that I can well remember my childhood. The intervening years have drawn a shroud over those days I can barely see through. I don't think I was a surly child, precisely, but I was an inordinately serious one. An old woman in Oswin used to call me 'Grim,' as though that were my name. 'Here, you, Grim - fetch me my walking stick, lad.' Hmph. Haven't thought about her in eons."

"You grew up in Oswin?" Elilia asked.

"Outside of it, on a small horse farm."

"I bet you had to do a lot of chores," she said.

"You bet right."

"I never had chores, growing up," she said.

"You are a child of privilege," Loghain said. "Teyrn's daughters don't do chores. They probably ought."

"Did Anora have chores?"

"Not exactly, but she was never idle. By which I mean she was often underfoot. She always preferred to turn her little hand to grownup pursuits than children's games. I started teaching her to hunt when she was five."

"I can't picture Anora hunting, let alone at five. I was seventeen before my father could be coerced into taking me hunting."

"I can't picture you _not_ hunting. Was Bryce not a hunter himself, or did he harbor some strange delusion that girls ought not to hunt?"

"Father didn't hunt often, it's true, but I think he would have taken me out a few times more than that if I were a boy," Elilia said. "How old were you when your father taught you to hunt?"

"I was five or perhaps six when the lessons started. But it wasn't my father taught me to hunt, 'twas my mother. Father was a good hunter, when hunting had to be done, but mother was born and bred for it."

"She sounds unconventional," Elilia said, with a laugh. "I think I would have liked her, even though she'd probably sniff at my tattoo."

"I said mother was against tattoos on me, not on anybody else. I would venture to guess she'd have liked your ink, even though it doesn't have much meaning."

"What was her name?"

"Nerissia."

"That's an unusual name. Sounds almost elven."

He laughed again, harder this time. "What the hell? There's nothing it can hurt in _this _world. It _is _elven. My mother was a Dalish."

She stared at him, bug-eyed. "You're…you're…_you're_ half-elven?" she said.

"I am."

She turned her face forward and put her chin in the heel of her hand. She was still pop-eyed. She made as if to say something several times, but remained silent. Before she could come to whatever conclusion rumbled in her mind, Varric returned to the clan hall, with a heavy pouch of coins in his hand.

"Your profits, Sir," he said, and handed over the pouch. "Come into any more treasures like that, I'll be more than happy to make the sale for you. Speaking of treasures; Elilia, my precious, would you care to join me this week's end for a little concerted rare game hunt? I've got a line on several nice beasties lurking around the Ozmone Plain. Could be some decent rewards out of it."

"What? Oh. Right. Rare game. Sure, I'm up for it. Week's end, you say? Day after tomorrow, then?" she said.

"How about you, Big Man?" Varric asked Loghain. "Another sword arm and a big damned dog could always come in handy."

"I don't know that I'd be welcome. The lady hasn't ventured a word since I told her the truth of my antecedents," Loghain said.

"It's just a shock, is all. Like finding out that Dane was a Qunari," Elilia said.

"Why? If Dane were a Qunari, he wouldn't be a Fereldan. I can assure you, despite the fact I'm half elven, I am one hundred percent Fereldan," Loghain said.

Varric looked at Loghain. "You're half-elven? But I thought you died. Aren't half-elves as immortal as full elves?"

"Elves aren't immortal where we come from, Varric," Elilia said. "Not any longer, at least."

"For all intents and purposes, I'm completely human," Loghain said. "My mother ensured it. She taught me nothing of my Dalish ancestry, except perhaps for woodcraft, and hid herself away on our little farm so the people of the town wouldn't know I had an elven mother. Your own cousin, Arl Bryland, is half-blood. You never seemed to have a problem with him."

"It's like I told you, it's just a shock, that's all," Elilia said. "Of course I don't have a problem with it. You're a half-blood. Big deal. Lots of people are half-blooded." She seemed almost to convince herself, but clear doubts remained.

"Do you see, Varric, why I kept it a secret? It's tearing her up inside, the simple fact that half my lineage has pointy ears," Loghain said.

"I take it the races stick to themselves pretty much where you come from," Varric said.

"Not entirely. Elves are very popular as prostitutes and mistresses. But, you see, I was a lord. Elves are not lords. Elves are servants, at best. That's the world Elilia grew up in."

She bridled at that. "How dare you imply that I'm prejudiced? I have nothing against elves. As far as I'm concerned, they're every bit as good as humans, maybe even better. Just because I take some surprise at the idea that Loghain Mac Tir, of all people, could be half-blooded, doesn't mean I have a problem with the fact." Her face was florid, but she seemed to have her feet back under her where they belonged.

"Well, now that that's settled, what about it, Big Man?" Varric asked. "Some rare game in your primer will help boost that clan rank no problem."

"If it's all right with Elilia," Loghain said.

"Why wouldn't it be all right with Elilia?" Elilia said. "Come along."

"How far away is this Ozmone Plain?" Loghain asked. "Will I need special equipment?"

"Might want a set of leathers at the least," Varric said. "And a canteen. We have to cross the whole of the Giza Plains to get there, but Ozmone itself isn't desert. Still, fresh water sources are few and far between so it's best to bring your own. It's not that far, just a day's trip there and back, with time for hunting in between, so you don't have to worry about a tent or anything like that."

"You'll want some magic, though," Elilia said. "That or a bow. There's great flying monsters on the Ozmone Plain that are quick on the attack but stay within melee range for only a matter of a moment before they pull back out of reach. You need magic or a ranged weapon to take them down, unless you get very lucky."

"I want a bow anyway, but I'll be hard-pressed to get enough coin and license points to bear one in a single day," Loghain said.

"We can work on that," Elilia said. "You're still going out hunting with me tonight, aren't you?"

"If you still want to," he said.

"Of course I still want to. But you should think about learning some magic, even if you do get a bow. Some monsters are hard to defeat without it. Amorphs, for instance," Elilia said.

"What's an amorph?" Loghain asked.

"They're hard to describe. Unfortunately, they're not at all uncommon, so you'll be seeing one sooner rather than later. I'll help you track down some big ticket bounties tomorrow, if you'll let me. I'd wager we can bring in enough coin for a bow and some basic magic spells, plus some type of light armor. And there's plenty of game hereabouts to earn enough license points for all of it." She seemed to grow excited. "There's plenty of things you should think about laying in a supply of, like healing potions and eye drops, to cure the flash-blindness some monsters inflict on you. Then, too, you'll need some empty phials to carry blood, oil, and liquid from different monsters that are valuable. And ice magicite, to keep things cold in your pack, like meat."

"You have the same wild look in your eye that Anora got every time she thought of some way to spend my money," Loghain said. "What is it about shopping that turns otherwise sensible women into crazed beasts?"

"You have to spend coin to make coin," Elilia said. "I'm just thinking of all the gil you'll bring in once you have these things in your possession."

"She's right about that, Big Man," Varric said. "There's a fortune to be made from things like behemoth blood and frog oil and cockatrice meat, but it's hard to do if you can't carry it with you. The initial investment will pay itself off many times over in no time at all. And you should think about buying a treasure hunter. It's a device that beeps when you're near items made from glass, magicite, or metal. It's kind of expensive, but it pays for itself in all the lost equipment you end up finding."

"Why would there be so much lost equipment to be found?" Loghain asked.

"There's a lot of hunters in this world," Varric said. "All different types. Some people, a lot of them, head off into the unknown and never come back. Others come back hell bent for leather, with all their belongings strewn about their flight trajectory like molted feathers. You never know what you'll find."

"Sometimes things fall off of wagons on the caravan trails," Elilia said. "Or get lost when the caravans are attacked by monsters or bandits. The law of salvage in this world says that it belongs to whoever recovers it."

"Some people make a career out of treasure hunting," Varric said. "It can be pretty lucrative."

"All right, you've convinced me. I suppose this device requires a license to use?" Loghain said.

"Yeah, it does," Varric said. "Speaking of which, you have to get a license for your dog. Not a license box on your board, a dog license for it to wear on a collar. Otherwise the city guard might take it for a monster and kill it. The clan should have some of the forms handy; hunters are always bringing back tamed wolves."

"How does that work, taming? I thought Odd must have been someone's pet gone feral, but it sounds to me as if that's not expected to be the case," Loghain said.

"You'd want to ask Ma'Kenroh or maybe Krjn about that," Varric said. "They'd know more about it than I do."

"Who's Kreen?" Loghain asked.

"The viera up on the balcony."

"The one with the rabbit ears," Elilia said. "You probably haven't become familiar with viera yet. They're not exactly common."

"I've heard the name, but that's it. So viera are the ones with rabbit ears. I now know about viera, bangaa, seeq, nu mou, and moogles. Are there other races I'll have to become familiar with?"

"Lots. This world is crawling with peoples," Elilia said. "Almost as many beings as monsters, and sometimes you're not too sure about some of the monsters."

"You might see some garif on the Ozmone Plain," Varric said. "They live there."

"What do garif look like?" Loghain asked.

"Roughly humanoid. I can't be more specific than that, because they all wear these wild masks with huge horns. I _think_ the horns are just part of the masks. They're friendly, though, which is more than can be said of most denizens of the plains," Varric said. "I'll track down a licensing form for your dog. I'll be right back."

The dwarf sauntered away, and the tails of his long leather coat almost brushed the floor as he walked. Loghain stood up and went up the stairs to talk to Ma'Kenroh, who was back on top of his short wall.

"Excuse me, Ser, I was wondering if you could possibly explain to me how taming works?" Loghain asked him. "Where I come from, wild animals stay wild, under ordinary circumstances."

"Ah. It's simple enough," Ma'Kenroh said in his quavery voice. "The weak submit to the strong. The more intelligent animals submit more readily than those duller of wit, but all will do so when properly dominated. Most hunters can't be bothered to run the risks involved in holding back a killing blow, but those that do find themselves with potentially very powerful allies. They mind their masters utterly, because from that moment forward they share a soul."

"Beg pardon?" Loghain said.

"You require clarification. The soul can be divided. When an animal is tamed, a fragment of your soul passes into the creature you've tamed. You may tame as many creatures as you have the ability to command, for even fragmented, the soul can never be diminished. It is eternal and infinite."

"My soul doesn't feel infinite," Loghain said.

Ma'Kenroh chuckled. "If you could feel your soul under ordinary circumstances you would spend your life engaged in nothing else. When you hear music that moves you inside, or see a beautiful work of art that sparks a quickening in you, then you may feel just the faintest sense of your soul. The physical vessel is a poor shell for such a glorious thing; only in death, released from the physical, can we truly experience the vastness of our own souls. In death, we become one with everything. You have felt this very thing, though you do not remember it. In a way, this is a blessing for you. If you retained the memory of that glory, you would spend the rest of your days knowing of what you were deprived. It would ruin your life."

Loghain had never imagined death to be all that wonderful, and retained his doubts, but he thanked Ma'Kenroh for the information, not that he completely understood it, and went back down the stairs. Varric waited there for him, and handed him a parchment scroll.

"Just fill this out and drop it in a postal box somewhere in town, and in a few days you'll get your license. You have to give 'em a mailing address, of course, so you'll want to have a specific place to stay for at least a few days."

"I'll fill this out as soon as I find out what a 'mailing address' is," Loghain said.

"We didn't have a standardized postal service in Ferelden," Elilia said. "A mailing address is the street name and house number of where you're staying. You can give them mine; 6402 Storeshed Row, North Sprawl, Lowtown."

"I haven't a quill," Loghain said. Varric pulled something out of his breast pocket and handed it to him. It appeared to be a blue fang tooth. Loghain looked a question at him.

"You write with it," Varric said. "You don't need ink, like with a quill."

Loghain examined the fang more closely. He could see nothing special about it, other than its color. He unfolded the parchment and began to fill in the blanks. His words printed on the page in what looked like dark blue ink. It was a small thing, but it was just one more way in which this world was strange to him. It made him feel very lonely. He was glad, in a way, that Elilia was there. She understood what he was going through. He was sorry that she'd had to go through it all alone.

"I'll show you a place you can drop that," Elilia said. "Let's go hunting already. My ass is going to grow roots if I sit here any longer."

"Fine by me," Loghain said. He stood up and shook Varric's hand. "It was good to meet you, Ser."

"Likewise," Varric said. "Good luck with your hunting."

Elilia preceded Loghain and Odd out of the clan hall, and showed him where the nearest postal box was located. Even as Teyrn, he'd never sent enough letters to warrant employing a full-time messenger. He wondered how useful a standardized message service would be. It implied that the bulk of the population was literate; Ferelden might not require such a thing.

Elilia took them out to the estersand, and they fought their way through the area all the way to a small fortress. Nalbina, Elilia said it was, and there was an orange magicite gate crystal outside the walls. Loghain touched it because she bade him to.

"See anything?" she asked.

"No. Should I?" Loghain said.

"You haven't touched the Rabanastre crystal yet," she said. "If you had, you'd see it in your mind, along with all the other teleport gate crystals you've touched. Focus on the one you want and fuse a teleport stone to the crystal, and off you go. I have the ambition to touch every gate crystal in Ivalice."

"How will you know when you've accomplished it?" Loghain asked.

"I won't. That's the beauty of it. Come on, I'll show you where another one is."

She led him back through the labyrinthine passages of the estersand to a wide-open space, where she cautioned him to keep an eye out for rare game. "It's called a nekhbet, and it's common enough in this area. Looks just like an ordinary cockatrice, with brown feathers, but it's a little bit bigger and a whole lot stronger. Adding it to your primer would be a nice boost for you."

There were plenty of cockatrices, and they slew as many as they could find. They stayed in the area for roughly an hour, during which time they tracked down cockatrices and wolves. Elilia showed him which cactites to kill for water, and they fed Odd. Finally, a nekhbet appeared. The power of the creature, only slightly larger than an ordinary cockatrice, took Loghain somewhat by surprise, but it fell easily enough beneath his blade. Elilia made the carcass small and stowed it in her pack with the meat of the other cockatrices they took, for she had ice magicite in her bag to keep it fresh. Then she showed him down the hill to the banks of a wide, blue river, where there was a tiny village. An orange gate crystal stood inside the little circle of huts. When he placed his hand upon it, Loghain saw the image of the Nalbina crystal in his mind. He didn't have any teleport stones remaining to him, so he couldn't try it out. After his experience with the Moogling, he wasn't eager to make the experiment.

They took the village ferry to the north bank, where the other half of the village was located. They went out into the desert and found different animals, red worgen instead of wolves. Worgen were virtually identical to wolves except in their color, but they were also larger and more powerful. Elilia bottled their blood to sell. She claimed it was worth quite a bit of coin. They returned to the south bank when they were ready to quit for the night and walked back to the city.

"We took quite a bit of loot," Elilia said as they walked. "I'll bet you'll be able to afford some leathers and a nice bow once we've sold it all. But that can wait 'til tomorrow. Right now, I'm starving. Let's head to the Sandsea and get a couple of steaks."

"Sounds good to me," Loghain said. "It's been a long time since that bowl of soup."

They returned to the tavern, where Loghain left Odd to sit on the patio and wait, and sat at a table on the balcony above the bar. Tomaj came to serve them, and Elilia ordered for both of them: Behemoth steaks with coal-baked potatoes and summer ale. They waited for their meals in silence, and Loghain liked that. He'd done more talking during the day than he was used to, and he was quite tired of words. When their meals arrived silence reigned for the first few bites.

"This is good," Loghain said. "I'm not too sure about the purple potato, but this is good. Delicious, in fact."

"Behemoth steak is very…_invigorating," _Elilia said. "It's a great way to end a long day of hunting."

Loghain took a sip of ale. He put down his tankard and looked at Elilia. "You look like you have something to say," he said.

"Don't waste money on a room for the night," she said. "Stay with me. You don't have to sleep on the couch."

"Where then would I sleep?" Loghain asked.

She grew coy. "Where do you think?"

"I presume 'on the floor,' for you could not be suggesting what it seems you are suggesting."

"I'm pretty sure I'm suggesting exactly what it seems I am suggesting," she said. "Eat your steak."

He put down his knife and fork. "You are not asking me to sleep with you," he said.

"If you need it stated baldly, yes I am," she said. "Eat your steak."

"Elilia, we are agreed that you are not prejudiced. You don't have to sleep with me to prove it," he said.

She drew herself up in her chair. Her face registered umbrage. "I wasn't even thinking about that, thank you very much."

"Elilia, I'm an old man."

"No you're not. You're younger than me, now. I would imagine this is how you looked during the Rebellion. Fresh-faced and not exactly innocent."

"Having a body less than twenty-four hours old does not make me a young man, young lady," he said.

"It's a big help," she said. "What is there to lose? Eat your steak."

He took a bite, to shut her up about it, chewed and swallowed. "There are plenty of consequences to risky behavior. As a woman, you should be thinking about one in particular."

"There are ways to prevent that particular 'consequence,'" she said.

"And none of them fail-proof."

"What are you afraid of?" she said. "Do you think I'll make you marry me? I can assure you, that's not going to happen."

"I can't even believe I'm having this conversation. What's wrong with you, girl? You can't seriously be attracted to me," he said.

"I like your eyes," she said, with a smile. Then her smile broadened. "The rest of you is hideous."

"Harpy," he said, not without a strong feeling of relief. "You're teasing me. Stop it. It's unworthy of you."

"I'm teasing you, but not about wanting you. I'm attracted to you. I _thought_ the feeling might be mutual, but perhaps I was wrong. It's not like I'm used to the feeling of a man giving me the eye," she said.

He tugged at the collar of his shirt, which suddenly felt too tight. "You weren't wrong," he said, even though it pained him to admit it.

A foot, slipped from its boot, made its way up the inside of his leg. "Then what's the problem?" she asked. "I have no expectations."

"You must have _some_ kind of expectations, or you wouldn't make the offer," he said. "Unless you make this same offer to every man you meet."

"Believe it or not, I don't," she said. "I've only ever made this offer to one other man, and that was out of curiosity, not attraction."

"Oh yeah? And how did that work out for you?" he asked.

"Not well," she said, lightly enough. "That was the night I died."

_I would have protected you,_ he thought, and then shook himself for thinking it. Out loud he said, "Not a consequence of your actions, but I should have thought it would make you leery of additional experimentation."

"Why should it? It wasn't a consequence of my actions," she said. "I can't imagine it happening again tonight."

"I don't jump into bed with women I've only just met," he said.

"Why not? What's the harm in reaching for something you want, especially when it's offered?" she said. "What are you afraid of?"

What was he afraid of? There was certainly an element of fear in his heart. Was that the reason, the real reason, he wasn't like Maric or a score of other men he knew of who treated sex casually? Because he was, quite simply, afraid of having his heart broken? It had broken before, and he survived it. He didn't like the thought that he might have let fear rule him, as he'd done during the Blight. Certainly he wasn't about to jump into bed with every woman who gave him the time of day, but to pass up what might be a very good thing on the basis of fear alone?

He could lose his heart to this wild girl, he knew that. It could happen quite easily. But with reasonable precautions, there needn't be any other unfortunate consequences to seeking a night's comfort in her arms. Nothing he couldn't survive. It might be hard to meet her eyes in the morning, but that, too, was survivable.

He looked down at his half-eaten steak. He didn't have much stomach for it any longer, but he forced himself to take another bite and chew it slowly. It gave him time to mull on what he was now seriously considering. He swallowed.

"Are you certain that this is…something you want?" he asked. "I'm no one's dream."

She laughed. "Evidently you aren't having the right kind of dreams."

"I just want you to be sure. Even a casual encounter of this nature shouldn't be taken too lightly."

"Will you relax already? I don't take it lightly. We'll take all proper precautions. Finish your steak."

"Why are you so concerned with my eating habits?" he asked.

She smiled a cockeyed smile, her eyes slightly wild. "Because behemoth steak is quite _invigorating," _she said.

He took her meaning. "Oh." He took another bite, chewed, and swallowed. "Speaking of precautions, you know I have no idea where to lay hands on such things."

"Relax. Migelo keeps all that sort of thing behind the counter at his store," Elilia said. "He'll still be open when we leave here."

"It will be hard enough asking _Migelo _for a bloody condom. What am I supposed to do if that little girl is manning the counter?"

Elilia laughed. "Ask her for Migelo, of course. She won't think anything of it."

"You make it sound so easy," he said.

"It is easy," she said. "You'll see. There's nothing to be afraid of."

He favored her with a severe glare and finished his steak in silence. Tomaj came around and asked if they'd like dessert or a refill on their drinks.

"Thanks, Tomaj, but we're good to go," Elilia said.

Tomaj gave Loghain a look and a sidelong smile. "Will you be staying with us tonight, Sir, or have you made other arrangements?"

Loghain looked at Elilia. It was the moment of truth. "I've…made other arrangements, Tomaj."

"Very good, Sir. I'll just bring the check 'round."

Elilia paid up the tab, over Loghain's objections, and in a few minutes' time they were out on the street outside, where Odd rejoined them with his tail a-wag. She tugged Loghain in the direction of Migelo's Sundries and he allowed himself to be pulled, but outside the door he set his heels.

"You wait out here," he said. "There's no need for both of us to be embarrassed."

"You're assuming I would be embarrassed. I wouldn't. But as you will; I'll wait here," she said.

He left her there with Odd, and entered the shop. Fortunately it was Migelo behind the counter, and not Penelo.

"Loghain! Good to see you. How are you? Settling in?" Migelo said.

Loghain cleared his throat. "Yes. Well enough, I guess. I, ah…need to make a purchase, actually."

"Of course! What do you need?"

"A c-…a condom."

Migelo's smile twisted slightly. "Well, you work fast. What, ah…what size?"

Loghain blanked. "I don't know how to answer that question," he said.

"Ordinarily I wouldn't have to ask it, but you're a lot bigger than other humes I've seen. If everything's proportioned to scale, you might be better off with the bangaa size rather than the hume size."

"I…can't be that much bigger than any other man. Give me the human size."

Migelo disappeared below the countertop for a moment and reemerged with his hand covering something. He handed it over discretely. "Five gil."

Loghain reached into his coin purse and felt out five silver coins. He handed them over. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. And…have a good evening."

Loghain touched his brow in salute and turned to leave the store. The lamb skin condom in his hand weighed on his conscience, but he found he could bear it. He could bear, too, whatever opinion Migelo formed of him. He might get a reputation in this world as a fast operator. Maric would laugh his head off.

He gained the street outside and received a sharp check. Elilia was not there; Odd greeted him alone. Perhaps this was how she got her jollies: build a man up and then leave him gasping. He felt like an idiot. He stood in the middle of the street with a reusable condom in his hand and pondered what to do next.

Then he saw her, on her way back towards him from the alley that led to the Muthru Bazaar. She had something in her hands, a pair of vaguely pearish fruits with deep ridges.

"Sorry if I kept you waiting," she said, when she was closer. "I just had this vision of you and me sharing something sweet and sticky." She held up one of the fruits. "And then eating fruit."

"When you weren't there, I thought…well…never mind what I thought," Loghain said.

She smiled. "Did you think I'd abandoned you? Come on, I want to get you home."

They headed back north, towards a nearby set of stairs to Lowtown. "Let me see the…thing," she said as they walked. Loghain handed her the condom. She held it up and let it dangle. She laughed out loud.

"Don't wave it about," Loghain said.

"What's the red silk ribbon for? Do you take it out or leave it in?" she said.

"Hell if I know," Loghain said. He snatched the condom back from her and stuffed it in his pocket. "I've never used one of these things before."

"I'm not sure how I feel about the fact that you can use it over and over again," she said. "But I suppose it's no different than the fact you can use the thing it covers over and over again."

"Well, I'm a trifle more confident in my ability to adequately wash the thing it covers," Loghain said.

They descended into Lowtown, where it was dark and cool. There were fewer people in evidence, but Loghain still felt the weight of eyes on him as he was led onward toward Elilia's home. She unlocked the door and stepped inside, then turned around, grabbed him by the front of the shirt, and pulled him in after her. She kissed him as Odd pushed past them into the first room and flopped down on the floor. Elilia pulled away and closed the door.

"I'm going to take a shower," she said. "It will only take a couple of minutes."

"What's a shower?" Loghain asked.

She smiled. "You'll have to take one and find out. You could join me in mine, but I think for now I'd prefer to wash myself. For now."

She disappeared into a back room. Loghain remained in the first room and wandered aimlessly. He couldn't believe he was doing this. He sat down on the edge of the couch that was the central piece of furniture and scratched Odd's ears. In about fifteen minutes, Elilia's voice drifted out of the back room.

"I'm ready," she said. Loghain stood up, gave himself a strong mental shake, and headed for the door to the back room.

It was, as he had suspected, her bedroom. She lay across the small bed, just barely large enough for two people, with her golden hair damp and dark on the pillow. She wore a skimpy nightgown of peach-colored satin. _Damp_ peach-colored satin, which clung to her body and disclosed much that ought to have been hidden.

"I suppose I should have dried myself a little better," she said, "but somehow being wet just felt…right."

"It might make your bedclothes a bit musty," he said, through a dry mouth.

"I'll wash them tomorrow," she said. She patted the bed next to her. "Come here."

He approached, with much the same confidence as a man might approach a sleeping dragon. She laughed at him. "Come here," she said again, more firmly.

He stood next to the side of the bed, and she reached up and untied the laces of his shirt. She tugged him down for another kiss and slid her hand across his chest, under his shirt. "All right, off with the trousers," she said, when she broke the kiss.

"Slow down a bit," he said. "If I'm going to do this, I'm going to do it right."

He sat down on the edge of the bed and kissed her, a deeper kiss than any they'd yet shared. His hand touched her satin-covered breast and he cupped it, and ran his thumb over the point of her nipple. She moaned into his mouth. He squeezed her breast gently and then slid his hand down her side and onto her hip. He pushed up the hem of her nightgown and kissed his way down her throat. She plunged her hands into his hair as he nuzzled her breasts.

"Are you sure the trousers can't come off now?" she asked. He raised his face from her bosom with a wolfish smile on his lips.

"Patience," he said. As he spoke, he stroked a finger hard across her clitoris. She jumped and pulled his hair.

"Damn," she said, breathlessly. "I didn't even notice your hand going in there."

"My greatest weapon is always the element of surprise," he said. He lowered his face to her breasts again.

She shivered. If it started out as pleasure, it didn't end that way. The shiver continued. He looked up again.

"You're cold," he said.

"It is a little chilly in here," she said.

"And you're wet." He got up and grabbed the quilt that was folded on the end of the bed.

"No," she said, a near howl. "I'll warm up."

"Don't be ridiculous," he said, and threw the blanket over her. He tucked her in well and then stood at the foot of the bed and surveyed the scene.

"This is not how I want to spend my evening," she said, in a grumble.

"Don't worry," he said, and picked up the end of the quilt. He crawled underneath it and up her legs. She shrieked laughter and her hands found his hair again.

It was so long since Celia passed, and he'd so firmly pushed that part of his life into the status of past history, he'd nearly forgotten how good it was to satisfy a woman. He took his time about it, though his youthened body urged him to a swifter pace. It took some effort of will to hold out against his body's urges. When the clothes finally came off he was more than ready for it, but he'd made certain that she was, too. She was no virgin, but her body was. He didn't know or much care what her first virgin experience was like, but he intended to give this one his very best effort. The next time he came eye-to-eye with her, he wanted to be able to meet her gaze.

The condom caused some consternation. Neither one of them knew how to use it exactly, and Elilia laughed a great deal as they fumbled with it. They finally decided that the red silk ribbon was just to make it easier to pull the thing open and should be removed. He hoped it wasn't for tying the damned thing on.

"You should have bought the bangaa-sized one," she said, and giggled.

"This works," he said. He hoped that was true. All he knew was that he was swiftly losing the mood. Then she reached down and stroked him, and even though he couldn't feel it quite as well as he should have he found he wasn't out of the mood after all.

After it was over and they ate their fruit and the condom lay forgotten on the floor by the bed, Elilia snuggled close against his chest and sighed.

"Here I thought I was going to have to tell you what to do every step of the way," she said. "But you ended up teaching me things I didn't know about."

"I was never promiscuous, but I don't lack for experience. I was married for nearly twenty years."

"I guess there's something to be said for monogamy. Were you ever with a woman you weren't married to?" she asked.

"Of course," he said. "Not while I was married."

She giggled. "Of course. Tell me about her."

"My wife?"

"No, the other woman. The one you weren't married to."

"What makes you assume there was only one?" he said.

"You just don't seem like the type who does…this…often. More than once, actually. So if you were with a woman you weren't married to, you must have been in love with her."

He sighed. "You don't really want to hear about that now, do you?"

"I'm just curious. I want to know what 'type' you're into."

He sighed again. "She was…a lot like you, actually. A warrior. Powerful. Beautiful. She was also extremely out of my league."

"But she slept with you," she said.

"Don't read too much into it. She'd just found out that the man she was in love with was putting it to an elven spy. Or maybe she'd known for awhile and _I _had just found out."

"So, what? You think she slept with you just because she was hurt and you were handy?" she said.

"Not entirely. I don't think I'm wrong about there having been some mutual attraction. But she settled for me, most definitely."

"Just the once?"

"That was all we had time for. When we got back to the army we were back in the shit, and shortly thereafter we confirmed our suspicions that the elf was a spy, and she went back to Maric. Or rather, I _made_ Rowan go back to Maric."

Elilia propped herself up on her elbow, her eyes wide. "It was Queen Rowan?" she said.

"She wasn't queen at the time," Loghain said.

"Even so," she said.

"I said she was out of my league," he said.

"Would you have married her?" she asked.

"Given half a chance, and if she would have agreed to it, yes."

"How did you end up married to someone else?" she asked.

"By arrangement. The nobility were afraid I would marry into one of their families, so Maric set me up with a girl from Gwaren, where the army was garrisoned at the time. I put my feelings for Rowan aside and loved her as best as I was capable. Did pretty well at it, too, until Rowan died. After that the guilt got a little heavy to bear for a time."

"Because you still loved her," she said. It wasn't a question.

"I suppose so," he said, though he knew full well it was true.

"Do you still regret that you didn't get to marry her?" Elilia asked.

"What is with all these questions?" he said. "No, I don't regret it. Not truly. Fate knew what was best. Rowan and I never got along all that well. She always seemed to feel there was some competition between us, and we were too alike in terms of temperament. I would have driven her away sooner or later. I loved her…I love her still…but we were never meant to be together."

"You believe in fate?" she asked.

"I believe that something guides our lives. I used to believe it was fate; now I'm wondering if there isn't a more intelligent hand behind it all. Someone or something put us here. Maybe it was the Maker."

"They believe He's gone from this world, too, you know," Elilia said.

"Well. Maybe it was one of these other gods they speak of."

Elilia pushed him over onto his back and straddled him. "I don't want to talk about gods and other women anymore," she said.

"You're the one that brought it all up," he said.

"And I'm the one that's putting it by," she said. "I couldn't help but notice, all the while we were…having fun…you were pretty focused on me. There wasn't much in it for you."

"I beg to differ," he said.

"Be that as it may, I think now we can see about doing a little something for you."

"What did you have in mind?" he asked.

"Let me show you," she said.

* * *

**A/N:** This chapter is all conversation, I know. What can I say? I'm a dialogue hound. Loghain should quieten from here on out. Elilia will remain a chatty cathy. As to the fact that Loghain knows what a condom is, all I can say is they've definitively been around since the seventeen hundreds (Casanova wrote quite lovingly of his) and probably predate that by centuries. It is such a simple little invention. And yes, the original condoms were reusable. Ick.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Dragon Age, Final Fantasy, _etc, or any of its related characters. This is just for my own enjoyment and the potential enjoyment of other fans like me, and no monetary gain was expected or received.

**Rating: **T+

**Spoilers: **May contain spoilers for _Origins_, _Origins_ DL content, and _Dragon Age II _as well as the novels _The Stolen Throne _and _The Calling_. May also contain spoilers for _Final Fantasy XII_, _Final Fantasy XIII_, _Final Fantasy XIII-2_, _Dungeons and Dragons_, and Harry Potter.

* * *

**Chapter Three: Dragon Slayers**

In the windowless dark of Lowtown, it was impossible to tell what time it was when he woke in the morning. Loghain lay where he was for a moment, half-stunned by the memory of what he had done in the night. He might have hoped it was nothing more than a particularly vivid Fade dream, but for the warm bundle of woman still asleep on his left arm. He searched his heart for feelings of guilt, and was surprised when he found none. They might come later, but for now, he was simply satisfied.

He watched her sleep for a few moments, and then quietly slipped out of the bed. He was careful not to wake her, and dressed in silence. He would like to be there when she woke up, even with the risk that she would not want him there, but there was a very large dog in the other room that almost certainly needed walking. She might still be asleep when he got back, but he was not about to walk into her house without permission. He walked to the large loading door that led up out of the South Sprawl and entered Giza Plains.

No dew sparkled on the few desert plants, but the morning looked fresh and pretty regardless. Loghain took Odd well away from anything that looked like a trail and let him do his business. That accomplished, he returned to Lowtown and had Odd sit up against the wall near Elilia's home, out of the way as best as possible of foot traffic. He leaned up against the wall himself and waited with his arms folded.

He did not have long to wait. Inside of half an hour the door opened and Elilia stepped out, dressed again in chainmail armor. She caught sight of Loghain and turned towards him.

"Is there any particular reason why you're standing out here?" she asked.

"I was waiting for you," he said.

"You could have waited inside," she said.

"The dog needed to be walked. I didn't have permission to come back in, so I waited out here."

"Consider yourself to have permission from now on," she said. "I wasn't sure I'd be seeing you again."

"I wasn't sure you'd want to," he said.

She adjusted the pack on her shoulder. "Well, come on. I've got all that meat we took yesterday; we need to get it sold before it goes bad."

He touched her on the shoulder. "Don't you think we need to talk, first?" he said.

"About what?" she asked.

"About last night. About where we stand today."

"Right now we stand in my doorway," she said. "I should like to remedy that."

"If you want to pretend it never happened that's fine by me," he said. "I might have trouble doing that, is all."

"I'm not pretending it never happened, but it's not happening right now…although there's an idea." She shook her head. "No, we have too much to do today, starting with selling all that loot we've got."

Loghain pushed his forelock out of his eyes. "You would…have it happen again?" he asked.

"It will happen again, if I have anything to say about it," she said. "As often as possible. Just not right now. There's a lot to do. Come on, we're wasting time. I want to take a few bounties today, and if we don't hurry someone might get to them before us."

"All right," he said, and followed her up out of Lowtown. They sold the spoils from their evening of hunting and ended up with a goodly sum of coin for their efforts. Elilia did not seem completely satisfied with it, however, and led the way to the Sandsea to peek at the hunt board.

"Hey, here's a new one: Flowering Cactoid. Must have been posted last night, or first thing this morning," she said. "Petitioned by a fellow named Dantro who will be waiting at the Outpost in the estersand. That's not much of a monster, but you should take it on. It'll help your clan rank, and the bounty will help with outfitting you."

"I'm game. It's one of those walking cactus plants, isn't it? Doesn't seem like the kind of thing someone would post a bounty on."

"If it's aggressive, it's more of a problem than you might think," Elilia said. "Still, you should be able to take it on without armor, if you're careful."

"Takin' on the flowering cactoid?" Oghren's beery voice said from the direction of the bar. "Mind if I tag along?"

"Oghren, Loghain needs the bounty so he can get equipped. We're not interested in splitting it," Elilia said.

"Who said anythin' about splittin' the bounty? I just wanna tag along; see how 'e does. He done good yesterday, but there's still some question in my mind as to whether he's really clan material," Oghren said.

Elilia rolled her eyes. "You can take my word for it; he is," she said.

Oghren slipped off his stool and hitched at his belt. "No offense, but yer just a kid. Whadda you know?"

"How many people in this room took a handful of farmers and with them managed to kick a great empire out of their land? Raise your hands," Elilia said. She took Loghain's arm by the wrist and waved it in the air, not without some resistance. "This guy did."

"Beggin' yer pardon, Eli, but I'm less in'erested in what 'e _did_ than in what 'e can _do," _Oghren said.

"If Oghren wants to take time away from his precious drinking to observe me, I have no objections," Loghain said.

"I don't trust him," Elilia said. "Why so interested in seeing him face off against a flowering cactoid? It's not much of a test."

"Shows what you know," Oghren said. "Flowerin' cactoid's a pretty damned _good_ test, of some things."

"Like what?" she asked, eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"Like we'll see, if it tests 'im," Oghren said.

"Hmm," she said, and glared at him for a moment longer. Then she turned and strode out of the tavern at high speed, which left both men to catch up to her, Oghren at a near run.

"What's wrong with you?" Loghain asked her, when he was close again.

"He's plotting something. I just don't know what," she said.

"What's the problem? You don't think we can handle him? He's a drunk and a slob, but I've not yet known him to be malicious."

"How do you know Oghren? You just met him yesterday," she said.

"I knew him back in Ferelden," Loghain said. "He helped the Warden and I slay the Archdemon."

She stopped short. "That's impossible. Oghren was here when I first came to Rabanastre."

"It was a different Oghren, but they're as alike as two peas. You haven't met anyone you knew from back home?"

"I…didn't really know very many people," she said, dazedly. "Do you mean to tell me there are copies of people from Ferelden running around Ivalice?"

"It would seem so. I don't know how common it is. I didn't really know all that many people, either," he said.

"What if we…run into ourselves?" she said. "That would make my head explode."

"I don't think it likely. If we existed in this world already, the gods or whatever wouldn't have needed to place us here."

"Do you really think this is a…whole different world?" she asked.

"I think it must be," he said, "though I hate so to admit it. Everything is different here. Even the laws of magic."

"I haven't wanted to think about it that way. I wanted to believe that, if I wanted to, I could board a ship and return home. But I think I knew that was never going to happen," she said.

He put his hand on her shoulder, but she shook him off. "It's no problem. Life is better here," she said. "My family is gone; there's nothing in Ferelden for me any longer."

"Ferelden needs people like you," he said.

"Ferelden will muddle by without me," she said. "Either that or it won't. My presence probably wouldn't have made that much difference one way or another."

"Hey, are we goin' huntin' or are we just gonna stand around all day flappin' our gums?" Oghren said.

They started walking again, but Loghain did not let the subject by. "How is life better here?" he asked. "What does Dalmasca have that Ferelden doesn't, aside from a lot of sand and a surplus of violent wild animals?"

"Well, from this point forward, it has me and you," she said. "I don't say Dalmasca is better than Ferelden, I just say my life is better here. Back home there were expectations, and though I made a habit of disappointing those expectations I was never really free. I'm free here, completely free. I can make of my life what I want to make of it."

He grudgingly admitted she had a point. "I suppose I can understand that," he said.

"Good. You made your own way in the world; I want my opportunity to do the same."

He laughed, a bitter sound. "You think I made _my_ way? The way I made was one I was dragged along by chains forged of duty: to my father, to Maric, to Ferelden. I tried many times to escape my fate. I never got far. The chains always dragged me back."

"That's surprising. To learn that you, of all people, ever found duty confining," she said.

"It takes strength to accept one's duty. Strength that had to develop over time, in my case."

"Well, you're free now," she said.

"Perhaps," he said. "Then again, perhaps not."

"Oh, right. The great, mysterious 'destiny of the Mist-born,'" she said. "I haven't known anything important to happen yet."

"But there's three of us now," Loghain said. "That seems to me a faintly prophetic number."

They were come to the east gate now. Elilia strode towards it without slackening pace and the massive doors slid open for her. "Well, we'll see. If anything does happen, at least it should be an adventure."

"Ha. In my experience, adventures aren't much fun while you're having them. It's only in reminiscence that you say, 'Those were the days.' Once you know you can survive them," Loghain said.

"You don't strike me as someone who says that, even in reminiscence."

"I don't waste a lot of time reminiscing. The past is passed. Useful as a guideline for the future, but not a source of entertainment."

"What _is_ a good source of entertainment, if I might ask?" she said.

"Not embroidery," he said, and she giggled.

"Come on, just tell me. What does Loghain Mac Tir find 'fun'?"

"Hunting is fun, I suppose, though I've never really done it for pure sport. A long ride through the country on a breezy day. A good book on an interesting topic." He dropped his voice into a lower register and a near whisper. "A night in the company of a peculiar but pleasant woman."

"Oo, I made the list," she said, and laughed. "I _hope _you're referring to me."

"Of course I am. I haven't met any other peculiar women recently."

They were well into the estersand now. Odd growled the native wolves away, and they passed without difficulty through the first sand-swept area to the narrow arroyo where the Outpost was. There were only a few people there under ordinary circumstances, a guard and whatever wayfarers paused to rest on their way to Rabanastre, so it was easy enough to find Dantro, seated on a crate in the middle of the Outpost near the bonfire. He talked to a blue seeq.

He saw them and turned his head. "Helloa, folks. Can I help you with anything?" he asked.

"Are you Dantro?" Loghain asked.

"That I am. Are you hunters?"

"That we are."

"Excellent. I was hoping it wouldn't take too long before someone came about my bill. This fellow here," he said, with a nod of the head towards the seeq, "just had a run-in with the nasty little bugger. Needles everywhere. Fortunately in his things, and not in him. Still, it's a pain in the arse, and if it isn't taken care of soon someone could get seriously hurt."

"Any idea where I'll find it?" Loghain asked.

"It was in the Yardang, just east of here, that this fellow got caught by it," Dantro said. "If you put a wiggle on it, I'd bet you'd find it's still there. Little beast likes to waylay morning travelers in that area. Kill it and bring me its flower so my wife can stew it up as an unguent for this sick traveler she's been tending. I'd do it myself, but I'm stuck here on guard duty for the next three days."

"It will be done," Loghain said. He turned to the others. "The Yardang?"

"The Yardang Labyrinth," Oghren said. "The maze of arroyos just past the Outpost."

"Rather a grandiose name for a couple of intersecting gulches," Loghain said.

"People get lost in them all the time," Elilia said. "It's a dangerous place for the casual traveler."

"Casual travelers probably shouldn't be wandering the desert in the first place," Loghain said. "Let's go."

They entered the twisting passages of the Yardang Labyrinth, which really was no more than two steep-sided arroyos that connected at two or three points. It was easy enough to keep a bearing there if you knew what you were about; the southeastern exit led directly to the fortress of Nalbina, the northeastern exit led deeper into the estersand (and eventually to the estersand village), and of the two western outlets one led to the Outpost and the other, Loghain was morally certain, led to the Giza Plains. Anybody who had trouble coming through the region was woefully unprepared for the desert. He did not yet own a map of the estersand, but already he had built a fairly accurate model of the region in his head, and led the way unerringly through the twisting paths.

There were plenty of cactites in the labyrinth, and each went about their business without a care for the hunters that stalked through their midst. The wolves and cockatrices that populated the area kept well back of Odd's bared teeth.

"Walk cautiously, now," Elilia said, in a low voice. "You want to take this thing unawares, believe me."

Odd saw the creature first. The giant dog bellied down to the sand, growled quietly, and took a few steps back. Loghain took the warning seriously. He and Elilia dropped into a crouch behind a rock outcropping and peered around it. Oghren was already shorter than the rocks, and did not need to crouch.

The flowering cactoid was slightly larger than most of the other cactoids Loghain had seen, and had a pink lotus-like flower on its head. It did not see them, and when it turned away, Loghain crept out from behind the outcropping with his sword out. The creature went about its business without spotting him, and he did not see any sign of ears on it, but still he snuck up cautiously, careful not to make any noise. He drew into range to strike, and that was when something terrible happened.

Oghren farted.

Loghain was upwind, so he could not smell it, but the sound reverberated off the close stone walls. The cactoid evidently heard it, for it turned with a screech and pumped its arms rapidly. What felt like a thousand needles flew off it and struck Loghain in the legs, chest, and stomach. A few sharp points found more tender flesh. Elilia swore and vaulted over the outcropping with her greatsword in hand.

With an oath, Loghain struck out with his sword and chopped the top of the creature's head off at the eyes. Water gushed out of the severed stump, and both pieces fell to the sand. Elilia put a hand on his shoulder and dropped her greatsword. With one hand, she fumbled in her satchel for something.

"Here, drink this," she said, after she came up with a bottle of green healing potion. "It should heal most of the prickles. We might have to remove some of the deeper ones by hand, though."

Oghren laughed. "Took it like a man! You're a real hunter after all!" he said.

Elilia spun toward him. "Oghren! Do you mean to tell me you did that on purpose?" she said.

The dwarf shrugged. "What's the big deal? He didn't let it stop 'im."

"The big deal? Of all the malicious things - "

"It's all right," Loghain said. She spun back toward him.

"_What?" _she said.

"It's not a real issue," he said. "The cactoid is dead. Nothing went wrong."

"Nothing went wrong? You just took a thousand needles without any kind of protection. If they hit you just right, they could have killed you!"

"Bull. He's too damned tall," Oghren said. "Too thick, too. And armor wouldn't 'a been much help. Those needles woulda gone straight through leather, and it would just make 'em harder to pull out. Takin' a shot from a cactoid's just a rite of passage for a hunter. Lot of 'em curl up cryin'. He didn't. He's got what it takes, all right."

"That was fairly impressive, actually," she said, somewhat reluctantly. "I've been hit with needles before, and it's pretty hard to keep moving after it happens. Didn't it hurt? You do feel pain, don't you?"

"It hurt like hell. Would've hurt worse if it had the chance to hit me again, so I killed it," Loghain said.

"You can just…_soldier _on through the worst of pains," she said.

"I have a lot of experience with pain," he said. "There are some pains one can't soldier on through. That wasn't one of them, though I will admit it was pretty bad."

"Is this something you had to learn, or were you born with the ability?" she said.

"I learned. You will, too. I should imagine most pains dwindle into insignificance after you've birthed a child."

"I'm never going to do that," she said, "so don't go getting any funny ideas."

"I knew it! You two are bonking, ain't ya?" Oghren said.

"That is none of your business," Elilia said.

"You didn't deny it, I can't help but notice," Oghren said, with an obscene chuckle.

"Let's just get out of here, shall we?" Loghain said. He knelt down and cut the flower off the top of the cactoid's head. "There. This is what he wanted from the thing. Is there any worth to the rest of it?"

"No, the flesh is poisonous," Elilia said.

"Sure, change the subject," Oghren said. "Oghren's got you pegged. Oghren knows what you get up to in the dark."

"Oghren's going to be bloody in about three seconds if he doesn't shut up," Loghain said.

"Oo, touchy, ain't we? I know the cure for that, and Elilia's got it in her pants."

Loghain drew back his sword, but Elilia stopped his swing. "Don't bother. The lewd speculations of a drunkard don't trouble me. Especially since he's more or less correct. Let's just go get your bounty. You should have enough for some leathers after this, and we'll take what other bounties we can find in hopes of getting you a bow and a few good spells."

"Nothin' much left on the board except big-ticket bounties like the marilith and ring wyrm," Oghren said. "If you think you wanna go after them I'd be happy to throw a hand in for a cut."

"You've got to promise one thing," Elilia said. "No more tests. Loghain has nothing to prove to you. And no more wind, please. That was foul, in the extreme."

"Hey, I can't make any promises I can't keep," Oghren said. "When a man has'ta go, a man has'ta go."

"No more talk about the lady," Loghain said. "Or else."

"Fine, fine. Let's go, before we shrivel up."

They returned to the Outpost, and Dantro handed over the bounty with his thanks. "I don't suppose I can ask a favor of you?" he said. "I'm here for the next three days, as I think I said, and my wife could use this flower as soon as possible. Could you take it to her? Our house is in the South Banks village, next to the river by the gate crystal. You'll find her up and about this time of day, and she won't be far from the house since she's looking after that poor fella. I don't have anything else on hand, but she'll give you something for your efforts, I'm sure."

"Of course," Loghain said. He headed back out into the Yardang with the flower, and left Elilia and Oghren to catch up.

"Much more a' this trottin' around, an' I'm gonna put a saddle on that dog an' ride it," Oghren grumbled. "You're sure goin' awful far out of yer way fer what'll probably be a handful of copper."

"I'm not running on a schedule," Loghain said. "If you don't like it, don't follow."

"It's not about the reward, Oghren," Elilia said.

"Then why are we doin' it?" Oghren said.

"You wouldn't understand," she said, with a roll of the eyes.

Dantro's wife proved to be a short, slim-built blonde, like ninety percent of all Dalmascan women as far as Loghain had seen, and like most of the men as well. She stood in the doorway of the small round hut between the river and the gate crystal in the estersand village. Loghain touched his brow to her and offered the flower.

"Your husband said you could put this to good use," he said.

"Oh, excellent!" she said. "Dantro said he was going to put a bounty out for it. Thank you."

She took the flower and dug into her pocket. "Here; it's not much, but a little something to thank you for bringing this all that way."

Loghain waved it off. "No, thank you. Is there anything else you need?"

She hesitated, and her eyes wandered over the faces of the others in his party. "Well, there are a few things…I can easily get most of them myself, but across the river, in the Broken Sands, you can find valeblossom trees. A few drops of valeblossom dew, the sap that rises up through pores in the wood, would help a great deal, but that's a dangerous area. There are wild saurians in that region. I don't have much to offer in exchange, but you look like a strong party. Is there a possibility you might head in that direction sometime soon?"

Loghain looked to Elilia. "I'm in," she said. "We went through the Yoma, which leads to the Broken Sands, yesterday. That's where we took all the worgen. Likely the area's filled back in by this time, so we'll have to fight our way through, but we can get plenty in exchange for pelts and wolf blood, and if Oghren will come with us I'd bet we can take on a wild saurian, which would be a big payday. How about it, Oghren? A third of wild saurian meat, skin, bone, and blood. Sounds worth it to me."

"Longshanks ain't very well protected for goin' up against a saurian," Oghren said.

"I'll watch out for him," she said. "All we need do is keep him out of the way of the teeth. I expect if he takes a blow or two from the tail, he'll scarcely feel it. Or at least he'll pretend he didn't."

"All right, I'm up for it."

They went to talk to the ferryman. "I heard you're helping out Missus Huone, so I'll waive the crossing fee this time. All aboard."

The little boat, propelled by dual motor-driven paddlewheels, chugged slowly across the placid blue river expanse to the North Banks village, where they debarked. Odd jumped off the boat and lapped up water from the river's edge.

"He's got the right idea," Elilia said. She pulled a canteen from her satchel and took a swig from it. She passed it to Loghain. "Here."

"Thanks," he said, and took a drink himself. Oghren pulled a flask from his bag and tipped it back. No fools thought it held water.

"You know, alcohol dries you up faster," Loghain said.

"I'll die a happy man," Oghren said, and belched.

"Suit yourself."

They left the village and proceeded into the area Loghain now knew as the Yoma, a broad expanse of rolling sand on the banks of the river. Once again well populated with red worgen wolves, which were bold enough to attack in spite of Odd's growls. Individually the beasts were no match for the group, but they traveled in small packs and presented a formidable obstacle in conjunction with the massive dragon that guarded the narrow passage to the Broken Sands. They carefully cleared the desert of wolves before tackling the wild saurian.

This beast was not docile like the one close to the city; it attacked as soon as they came close. Oghren and Elilia set themselves to draw the dragon's attention while Loghain stayed out of range of the mouthful of six-inch teeth. It was a switch for him, when for so many years he had used himself as a human shield. He did not particularly care to be back in a position of vulnerability.

Though he was away from the dangers of the saurian's teeth, he was not safe, a fact that came home to him when the great creature's tail slammed into his chest like a battering ram. He flew backward three feet into a sandstone outcropping and crumpled, momentarily dazed. He got to his feet gingerly, thanks to his bruised ribs, but threw himself back into the battle, not aiming to kill but to cripple the beast, to aid his companions as best he could. Elilia made the killing blow, and jammed her greatsword into the creature's throat. Oghren barely made it out from under in time to avoid a nasty death as the beast fell.

"Everybody all right?" Elilia asked, as she wiped sweat and blood from her brow with the back of her hand. "Loghain?"

"I'm fine," he said.

"Look at all that cheddar," Oghren said. "This is lookin' to be the best payday I've had in awhile."

Elilia sheathed her greatsword and drew her hunting knife. "You won't get any of it if you don't help me portion it out."

It took all three of them to dress the beast out. There was apparently some value to every part of the creature, which made Loghain feel a little better about killing it. Leaving countless corpses for the scavengers was not his idea of proper hunting, no matter how inexhaustible the prey.

"This is one of those times when it would be good for you to have your own kit," Elilia said, as she paused to rest a moment. It was hard work to cut the dragon's tough hide. "I'm not sure I've got enough vials in my bag for all this blood, though I always carry more than I think I'm going to need. I suppose I could empty the ones I've got wolf blood in. Dragon blood is more valuable."

"I've got a few extra vials," Oghren said. "We should be okay."

"Might I ask what they use this blood for?" Loghain asked.

"Potions, mostly. It's gross, but if you drink it you get stronger for a little while," Elilia said.

Oghren chuckled. "It's a popular remedy for men who have a little trouble gettin' things started in the bedroom, too." He elbowed Loghain in the ribs. "Not a problem for you, right?"

"Your fascination with other people's private lives betrays your utter lack of one," Elilia said.

"I've just been tryin' to picture the eventual offspring. All I can figger so far is that it'll be really tall and have a big honkin' nose."

"Enough," Loghain said. "I'm only going to warn you once more: keep your thoughts to yourself. I'll not have you speculating on the lady's integrity."

"You don't have to defend my honor, you know," Elilia said.

"Perhaps I don't, but neither do I need suffer hearing it."

They finished portioning out the saurian. Loghain was amazed that, magic or no, they were able to pack it all out on their backs without the weight being a real issue. It was more than just the miniaturization magic; the satchels themselves were enchanted to eliminate the problem of weight. Impossible, by the laws of magic with which he had grown up. This was not the same plane of existence as Thedas. This was a place like the Fade, separate. Unique. And like the Fade, he suspected there was no easy way to cross from this place to his home, except perhaps in dreams.

There were more bold worgen in the Broken Sands. They had to fight their way to the crevasse where the pink-leaved valeblossom trees grew. They had one empty vial they saved, and they gathered as much of the welling sap as they could. They returned to the North Banks village and crossed the river once more. Dantro's wife met them at the door of her hut.

"Oh, thank you for this. This will really help. Here, let me administer this quickly so you can have your bottle back." She disappeared into the hut and returned in a few minutes. She handed Loghain the empty vial. "I rinsed it out for you. Thank you again. I put together a small reward for you."

"That won't be necessary," Loghain said. "We're glad to help."

"We wouldn't be if we didn't have a shitload of dragon meat in our packs," Oghren said, with a grunt. Elilia kicked him in the shin.

"Ignore him," she said. "He doesn't speak for the rest of us."

"Is there anything else we can do for you?" Loghain asked.

"No no, you've done more than I should ever have asked for already. Are you sure I can't reward you?"

"I'm sure. Good fortune to you," Loghain said.

"Let's take the gate crystal back to Rabanastre," Oghren said.

"Oghren, you lazy slob, it's only two miles," Elilia said. "I'm not wasting a teleport stone on a trip like that, and Loghain hasn't touched the Rabanastre crystal yet."

"All right, all right." Oghren whistled and slapped his hands on his knees. "Come here, you big mutt."

"You're not riding my dog," Loghain said.

Oghren grumbled under his breath the whole way back to Rabanastre. His mood did not improve until they sold off the pieces of the dragon. They each came away with a small fortune; a good day's work, and it was not even noon yet.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving," Elilia said. "What say we take a break, grab something to eat?"

"Sounds good to me," Oghren said. "Sandsea?"

They went to the tavern for eggs and bacon and toast with coffee. Elilia checked the hunt board while they were there. "The tavernmaster right here petitioned the marilith hunt," she said. "The ring wyrm was petitioned by a fellow named Balzac, who'll be waiting in Lowtown. There's one other local hunt, for a White Mousse, but that's an amorph and would take some pretty strong magic. I think we should let that one go for now."

Oghren sat back in his chair and folded his hands on his stomach. He belched comfortably. "What you should be askin' is whether we really need to take on any other hunts. We made a boatload today."

"But imagine how much more we can make if we just put in a full day's work," Elilia said. "I know that's anathema to you."

"I thought you didn't hunt during the heat of the day," Oghren said.

"I don't care to, that's true, but we'd be underground hunting the marilith. It will be cooler down there. Come on; Loghain needs the coin, and a little extra always comes in handy, doesn't it?"

"With all the dragon meat we flooded the market with, we won't get jack for the ring wyrm," Oghren said. "Not 'less we take it somewheres else to sell it."

"Bhujerba is an hour's trip by airship and tickets only cost two hundred gil apiece. They don't get dragon meat often, so they pay more for it in the first place. We can go there, show Loghain the sights, and teleport back," Elilia said.

"Why don't we teleport there?" Oghren said. "Why waste money and time on an airship ride?"

"Idiot. You know Loghain hasn't touched the Bhujerba crystal. Besides, I like riding on airships, and I'd like for Loghain to experience it. The approach to Bhujerba is beautiful."

"He could come by drag-along," Oghren said. "That's the way that monster dog'll travel."

"You know as well as I do that drag-along teleportation is extremely uncomfortable," Elilia said. "No, we'll go by airship. The proceeds from the sale of the meat should more than make up for the cost of the tickets."

"You're assuming of course that we can, indeed, defeat this monster," Loghain said. "It's a dragon. It might be beyond us."

"If it was an especially powerful dragon the King would have petitioned to have it killed, or sent the army after it," Elilia said. "We can handle it. You'll be better equipped before we head out after it."

"A ring wyrm would have fire breath," Oghren said. "A good stout shield would come in handy. Then we wouldn't hafta babysit you as much."

"After the wild saurian, he should probably have enough for a shield, and everything else he needs to start out," Elilia said.

"Yer gettin' all excited, ain't ya?" Oghren said. "Shopping trip. You women love 'em."

"What, you don't like getting new things?" Elilia asked.

"Men don't like new things. Men like old things, worn-in things, _comfortable_ things," Oghren said.

"I'd disagree with him, but it happens to be true," Loghain said.

"Oh, come on now. It can't be a universal truth," Elilia said.

Oghren snickered. "She don't know men very well, do she?"

"There are surely men who prefer new things to old," Loghain said, "but you'd find them in a resounding minority."

"And every one of 'em prefers cock to pussy," Oghren said.

Loghain grimaced. "Oghren, language. That's not true, anyway. Not…_universally_, at any rate."

"A real man'll take a pair of underwear an' wear 'em 'til they're held together with just a couple a' threads," Oghren said. "He'll never get new unless some _woman _forces 'im."

"Now, I like old clothes just fine," Elilia said. "But I prefer new _equipment. _Fighting with worn-out stuff makes no sense."

"You're talking to a man who fought with the same iron sword from his first battle to his last," Loghain said.

"But why? There's so much better equipment out there than an iron sword, and you were Teyrn of bloody Gwaren. Don't tell me you couldn't afford it," Elilia said.

"Men get attached to things like swords," Oghren said. "We give 'em names."

"I never went that far," Loghain said.

"Bet you never gave yer ol' fella a name, either," Oghren said.

"You'd be correct," Loghain said, with some asperity.

Elilia slapped her hands down on the tabletop. "Well, I guess I just don't understand men at all," she said. "Come on; finish your coffee. Like it or lump it, we've got shopping to do."

The men let Elilia lead the charge into the shopping district of Rabanastre, and she took the lead as well in bargaining with merchants, and ruthlessly chewed down their prices. Loghain was impressed. He typically paid full markup for anything he purchased, out of simple disinclination to barter, but Elilia was masterful at the fine art of bargaining. She seemed to have a keen grasp of what things were worth.

By the time they were done shopping Loghain was very well equipped indeed, with sundry items like empty bottles and handkerchiefs and eye drop solutions and poison antidotes as well as with leather armor, a bronze shield, and a longbow and quiver full of unusually lightweight arrows. He would see how well they worked out. For now, they were fine, but he might well prefer to make his own.

"Buy your licenses, if you can," Elilia said. "Can't equip your weapons or armor 'til you've done that. I'd bet you have enough."

He did, just barely. He found that he had to keep his finger pressed to the appropriate license box for several seconds before it was 'purchased,' different from what he had experienced licensing his cure spell. It made sense when he thought about it; the magic licenses were learnable after training, and did not cost license points to purchase, while the regular licenses did cost points and therefore it was important not to accidentally purchase an unneeded license. He remarked on this to Elilia.

"Speaking of magic, let's hit Yugri's for a few elemental spells," she said. "Then you should learn Accio from Batahn's, since you'll need to get things from your bag in a hurry sometimes."

"Accio?" he asked.

"Use the technick and whatever yer after jumps into yer hand," Oghren said. "It's handy just on general principles."

"Is there a magic spell to cover every possible problem in this world?" Loghain asked.

"Close," Elilia said. "The average Dalmascan would look at the way we lived in Ferelden and wonder how we got by without magic. Even kids usually know a spell or two."

It only took Yugri a few minutes to teach Loghain to use basic elemental spells. Accio took longer, nearly half an hour, but in the end, he was able to make it work for him. He had very little coin left in his pockets by the time all was said and done, but at least he was now well enough equipped to make his own way in the world. To rely too heavily on others was uncomfortable.

They had spoken with the tavernmaster of the Sandsea before they left to go shopping, so all they had to do now was head into Lowtown to speak to the petitioner of the ring wyrm hunt. They did this, and found Balzac seated on a crate in the southeastern corner of the north sprawl.

"I'm with an…organization…" he said, and his eyes shifted uncomfortably. "We do training exercises out in the westersand from time to time, and last time we were all the way out in the Windtrace Dunes when a sandstorm kicked up, like they so often do. We were all standing around debating whether to call it quits or not when all of a sudden this huge beast attacked! Well, I'm not ashamed to tell you we ran for it. We train hard, but not hard enough to deal with something like that! Thinking about that monster so close to the city made us all nervous, so we pooled our resources and came up with a reward for anyone who can take it out. We weren't able to pony up much gil, I'm afraid, but there's a ring that's quite valuable and a longsword that would fetch a pretty penny, too, if you didn't have a use for it."

Oghren grunted. "That's not much of a bounty for a dragon," he said.

"Remember: we'll have all that meat, bone, blood, and hide to sell when we're through," Elilia said. _"There's _your reward."

Oghren's eyes lit up with avarice. "True that," he said.

"Come on; let's take on this dragon before we head underground, so we're not hunting it in the worst heat of the day," Elilia said.

"I will warn you of one thing," Balzac said, with a raised hand. "I went back out to the Windtrace Dunes myself to see if it was still there, and saw not a sign of it. The weather was clear when I went. Perhaps it only comes out when the sands are in a fury."

"Well, it's not hard to find a sandstorm in the Windtrace Dunes," Elilia said. "If there isn't one now there's almost sure to be at some point today."

"Are they truly so common?" Loghain asked.

"Every time the breeze picks up a little," Oghren said. "Hopefully this dragon don't care if it's a little sandstorm or a real whopper."

"Yeah, I don't want to be fighting a dragon in a heavy sandstorm," Elilia said.

"How bad do they get?" Loghain asked.

"Bad enough you can easily get lost in 'em, not so bad you'll end up buried," Oghren said. "No, the real problem with a heavy sandstorm isn't the wind or the sand, it's the entites."

"What's an entite?"

"A giant glowing orb made up of powerful magics," Elilia said. "They're a type of elemental. You need special enchanted equipment and strong magic resistance to go up against one. They'll steal your voice away from you and even put you to sleep, then cast powerful magic on you 'til you're quite dead."

"You don't dare attack one or even cast magic in its presence," Oghren said. "They're touchy. They attack whenever they sense magic, whether you're castin' an elemental spell or a healin' spell."

"Most hunters who encounter an entite drop whatever they were doing and run for it immediately," Elilia said.

"Too bad, too, because the stuff they leave behind when they're dead is valuable as all get-out," Oghren said. "The entites, I mean. The hunters, too, come to think of it."

"So basically, if I see a big, glowing orb…floating in the air, I assume? I am to run for my life," Loghain said.

"Yeah," Elilia said. "Unless you'd like to die again."

"Is it difficult to equip oneself properly for a battle against one?" he asked.

"Not extremely," Elilia said. "But they're so dangerous even with all proper precautions that most hunters don't bother. They're hard to kill. Probably just as hard as this dragon we're going to take down. It would take a team of well-equipped hunters to bring an entite down without grave personal risk, and most hunters go it alone. We shouldn't; we can get so much more done working together. Look at what we're accomplishing today, with as small a team as this."

"Doesn't the clan organize group hunts?" Loghain asked.

"Not typically, and never officially. Sometimes we just go out hunting together, but most of the best hunters are pretty antisocial for some reason. They just don't like to travel in packs."

"I confess, I'd probably prefer to hunt alone myself," Loghain said. "I don't like being responsible for people's lives, though I should be used to it by this time."

"Ed Zackary," Oghren said, and Loghain looked at him in bewilderment. "I don't like to be relied on too much. Puts me in a bad position."

"Ed Zackary?" Loghain said.

"It's jackass for 'exactly,'" Elilia said, with a roll of the eyes.

"Oh."

"Come on, let's go get us a dragon," Elilia said.

The conditions did not seem auspicious for finding a sandstorm-loving dragon when they first entered the westersand, but Elilia and Oghren seemed encouraged by the scurf of sand stirred feebly by the wind.

"It'll pick up," Oghren said. "By the time we hit the Windtrace Dunes it'll be blowing like nobody's business."

"It was clear as crystal in the estersand," Loghain remarked.

"It usually is. The estersand is more walled-in than the westersand. You don't see many sandstorms there," Elilia said.

"Just in the Naze, mostly, and they never seem to be all that violent," Oghren said. "That's why hunters tend to favor the estersand over the westersand. Less sand gettin' in yer armor. It can gripe you somethin' awful."

"And I've never yet seen an entite in the estersand," Elilia said.

"That, too."

They tracked out into the sands. In an area called the Midfault, they came upon a gruesome sight, a walking skeleton that seethed with dark magic. They fell upon it at once with swords and axe, and it took some effort before the foul magic that gave it life abandoned it. Loghain wiped his brow on the back of his hand.

"So. The undead are a problem in this world," he said.

"It's not quite the same as what we knew," Elilia said. "They're not demon-possessed. They're enslaved by dark magic or intense emotions. I don't know which is worse, honestly. At least with demon possession you're fairly certain that the soul of your passed loved one is free somewhere in the afterlife."

"Well, we've laid this one to rest," Loghain said. "Let's continue."

They each took a quick drink and proceeded onward. The wind whipped the sand into a frenzy, and made traveling hellish. Loghain had never been in a sandstorm before. He could barely see, his eyes hurt, and there was sand in places it should not be, but the others seemed untroubled so he plodded on in silence. He supposed this passed for a mild storm, but it seemed major to him. He hoped he could keep his heading in the swirling sand.

"We're in the Windtrace Dunes now," Elilia said, after a bit. "Everybody stick close. If we get separated we'll never find each other again, and this dragon can pick us off one at a time."

They came to the edge of a drop-off. Not a long drop, according to Elilia, but with the sand clouding everyone's vision no one was eager to step off it. They crept along the edge of the ledge until they came to level ground. The vague bulk of a sandstone outcropping loomed before them.

"Are we entirely certain these people didn't just stumble up to a bluff and get scared?" Oghren asked.

"The only way to know is to hunt around. If there's no dragon, there's no dragon," Elilia said.

"Don't suppose that mutt can track it?" Oghren said.

"Unlikely in the extreme," Loghain said. _"I _can barely breathe; Odd must be fairly choking."

"Well, we are being a little stupid," Elilia said. She reached into her satchel and pulled out a handkerchief. "I don't think we can help the dog but we can save ourselves a lot of difficulty."

She tied the handkerchief over her lower face and nose. Loghain reached for his own handkerchief and did the same, while he cursed himself for not thinking of it. Oghren, it seemed, did not carry handkerchiefs, so Elilia let him use one of her spares. Thus outfitted, they were able to proceed slightly easier, though the sand still stung their eyes.

"This is hopeless," Elilia said after half an hour's fruitless searching. "We're never going to find anything in this. Let's head back."

"Which way is back?" Oghren said.

"Did you hear something?" Loghain said.

"Yeah, I heard me askin' whether we're lost," Oghren said.

"No, I'm serious. I thought I heard something. There - there it is again. Did you hear it?"

"Sounded like a growl," Elilia said. "And I don't think it was Odd."

It was hard to pinpoint the direction a sound came from in the storm, but they made their best guess and headed that way. Loghain called their attention to the feel of the earth beneath their feet.

"You feel that? That's an impact tremor. If something can walk on sand and create an impact tremor, it's got to be a bloody dragon."

"Or an oretoise, but I've never heard of one of them north of the Archelyte Steppe," Oghren said. "Come on; we must be close. This thing can't be _that_ big."

Loghain readied his sword and shield, and they proceeded forward cautiously. When it rose up out of the swirling sands before them, it was easy at first to take it for another sandstone outcropping. Until it roared.

"Maker's breath," Loghain swore.

It was not as immense as the Archdemon, but that was only a degree of immensity. It was blockier, bulkier; its wings, though powerful, had to be next to useless for carrying it into the air. It had a clubbed tail and a massive head on a bullish neck. It did not look remotely intelligent, unlike the dragons with which Loghain was familiar. There was a huge metal ring around its neck, mark of a time that bound it in servitude to someone or something. Whoever or whatever it was must have been supremely powerful.

Elilia let out a war whoop and attacked. Oghren swung his axe at the creature's legs. Loghain gave an order to Odd to keep out of the way and waded into battle. His iron sword was almost useless against the dragon's tough hide but he kept its attention focused on him as much as possible, to save the others from damage. The creature spewed hot flames from its mouth, and Loghain ducked behind his shield for protection.

The dragon either could not fly away or was disinclined to do so, so the battle was relatively easy compared with the battle against the Archdemon. Still, it took a great deal of effort to overcome the monster's vast strength and durability. Compared to the battle against the wild saurian it was immensely difficult, for the creature was far better defended and had tremendous offensive capability as well. Instead of just jaws and tail, it fought with jaws and tail and claws and fire. Loghain's new armor proved its worth when the dragon's foreclaws ripped down the front of his thigh. The heavy leather was scored, but the flesh beneath remained intact.

The battle raged on for nearly half an hour. Fortunately, the wind died down a bit, so they were no longer blinded by sand, but Loghain was hot and sweaty in his leather armor and his throat was parched. When he finally saw a chance to end the creature he took it with a feeling of intense gratitude for the opportunity. The dragon ducked its head, and as he had done with the Archdemon what felt like an eternity ago, Loghain jumped on top of it. He jammed his sword down through the top of the monster's head as hard as he could with both hands, and used his weight to jam it in deeper. At first there was too much resistance; the creature shook itself and nearly dislodged him, but he held on and pushed the sword in a little bit deeper. He continued to press down until at last it seemed he found a chink in the dragon's armor, and his sword slipped in halfway to the hilt. The monster's roar turned into a rattle and it collapsed onto the sand, which puffed up around it in a momentary resumption of the sandstorm.

Elilia let out another whoop and waved her greatsword in the air over her head. "Bloody marvelous," she said.

Loghain coughed the dust out of his lungs, pulled his new canteen from his satchel, and took a deep swig. "Damn," he said, when he had powers of speech again. "That was quite the battle."

"That was quite the kill," she said. "Brave of you, to jump up on top of it like that, but I think you'll get yourself killed playing decoy to a dragon."

"You don't have a shield," he said. "It's better the creature kept its gaze on me."

"How'd that armor hold up? You bleeding anywhere?" she asked. She gave him a thorough inspection. "Looks good. Guess that was money well spent."

"I'm well protected, but I'm also hotter than the hinges of hell in this leather," Loghain said.

"Well, after we cut this thing into thirds we can head down into Zertinan. It'll be cool enough down there. After that, we can definitely call it a day, I think."

"Quite a day," Oghren said. "I should hunt with you turkeys more often. I'll get rich."

"We _should_ hunt together more often," Elilia said. "Look what we can do."

It was hot and nasty work, carving the dragon up into portions. Loghain made a mental note to purchase a small saw blade like Elilia and Oghren had, to make the work easier. He also still needed his own spell of miniaturization, so he would no longer have to rely on Elilia to make his cut of the spoils small enough to cart away. Eventually they managed to portion the creature out sufficiently and nothing was left on the sands but a bloodstain that soaked in deep and dried up rapidly. Now that the sandstorm was over it was easy enough for Elilia to determine where they were and lead the way back through the desert toward the city.

"The entrance to Zertinan is over here," she said, as she led them off the track to the south. "I've never been down there, have you, Oghren?"

"Nah," he said. "Most folks leave the caverns alone. That's because the fiends down there are tough and plentiful, but the upshot is that the loot you can take from killin' 'em isn't much found on the market, so you can get a fair bundle for it."

"Do you at least know what's down there?" she asked.

"Oh, sure. Every once in awhile someone goes pokin' 'round down there, but they never go too deep. Hopefully we don't have to go too deep, neither. What I've heard is, there's toads and amorphs, mostly."

"Toads?" Loghain said.

"These aren't like toads back home," Elilia said. "Toads in Ivalice are freakishly large. As big as a mabari, at least. They get pretty violent, too."

"Figures."

She pulled a magicite lantern from her satchel. "Come on, boys. Fortune favors the bold, right? In we go."

They ventured into the dark recesses of the cavern. "Crawling down a hole after a giant snake," Oghren grumbled. "Not one of my finer hours."

"Quit complaining. The bounty alone is more than worth the effort," Elilia said. "Twenty-two hundred gil, just so someone can tip back a bottle of wine!"

"What kind of wine can you make out of a snake?" Loghain asked.

"Serpentwyne. Let me tell you, it'll knock yer boots off ya," Oghren said.

"They use what they call a 'must,'" Elilia said. "I'm fairly certain it's actually the venom gland. I've never taken one before, so I hope we don't mess this up. I'd have to figure it's a fairly delicate procedure."

"Are these caverns extensive?" Loghain asked.

"No one really knows," Elilia said. "They're unmapped. Pretty much unexplored. There's another entrance on the Ozmone Plain, miles to the south, but no one really knows if they're connected or separate caverns."

"I hear tell there's entrances in the Ogir Yensa and the Nam Yensa Sandseas, too," Oghren said. "That would make it a hell of a place to get lost in, if they're all connected."

"The Sandseas are miles west of here, covering a stretch of land larger than all of Dalmasca," Elilia said. "If Zertinan reaches them, it's pretty extensive, all right."

"Let's not get lost," Loghain said. "If there's any question as to where our path lies, I say we retrace our steps and get out of here."

"It looks like this first section is fairly straightforward," Elilia said. The light from her lantern illuminated a green glob-like creature. "Ew. Amorph alert."

"Hit it with fire," Oghren said, and cast a weak flame from his hand at the monster. Loghain had only just learned to cast the same spell, so it was with some feeling of trepidation that he cast his own version. A much hotter flame shot from his hand to scorch the creature, and it melted into a pile of green goo.

"Not bad. You're quite the magician," Elilia said.

Loghain examined his own hand with a sense that he had never seen it before. "I can't believe that came from me."

"Come on; let's bottle up some of this goo before it soaks into the ground," Elilia said.

"What's it good for?" Loghain asked.

"Beats me, but somebody'll probably buy it," she said.

They encountered more slimy green amorphs, and several large black and red toads, before they found themselves in a wide area lit slightly by light that came through small openings in the earth to the outside. By that light, they could see clearly the marks left by the passage of a large, serpentine body on the sand.

"It curled up here," Elilia said, as she knelt and pointed out a circular pattern on the earth. "I think we found its lair."

"If we wait here, it'll probably come back," Oghren said. "Then we don't have to go trackin' it all over tarnation and maybe get ourselves lost forever under the earth."

"It would be nice to fight it in a place like this, where there's a little light to see by. Could be hours before it shows up, though," Elilia said.

"Half of hunting is the patience to sit and wait," Loghain said.

"True. It's easy to lose sight of that in Ivalice, where the prey tends to come running to you."

Oghren busied himself inspecting the holes leading out. "A snake this size can't possibly use 'em to crawl to the surface," he said. "Do you think it dens near 'em to get fresh air? Maybe it likes the light?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Elilia said.

"Does it matter?" Loghain said.

"I s'pose not," Oghren said. He positioned himself in a back corner and leaned against his axe.

They waited for the snake to return. Oghren, it seemed, was content to stand around and do nothing for perhaps hours on end, and Odd sat alert and perfectly still right down to his tail. Loghain, while naturally restless, had the self-discipline to remain still and silent, but Elilia fidgeted. Finally, she drew a particularly sharp glare from Loghain, and sighed in exasperation.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "This is the part of hunting I hated."

"School yourself," Loghain said, also in a whisper. "You have a strong will; use it. Make yourself still."

"I can't," she said.

"You can," he said. "Make it a competition with yourself. Set yourself to outlast the fidgets. Which is stronger, you or them?"

"All right, I'll try," she said, and took a deep breath. At first, she still twitched a bit, but he could see her start to slowly win over the urge to move around. She was a good student. His lips curved in a proud smile. She saw and it puffed her up a little.

It was another hour before they heard the dry rasp of scales over sand. Odd sat forward and growled low in his throat. Then he jumped up and attacked something at the far edge of the light. They heard a loud hiss. Loghain grabbed his sword, and the others readied their weapons. The giant snake slithered into view with Odd clamped on to its neck, half-wrapped in its coils. The beast was as much as twenty feet long and vivid red in color, with a body that split into two pieces at the neck for a space of three or four feet until it joined back together. The sight of the hunters distracted it from the dog momentarily and it tried to strike at them, but Odd held on tight and hindered its movement.

"Whaddaya know? The damned dog is a little bit useful after all," Oghren said. He swung his axe in a broad arc, striking nothing, and said, "If you want this thing in yer primers better get yer licks in quick, 'cause I'm fixin' to lop that head right off."

Elilia struck out at the snake, a slashing blow at a thick coil wrapped around the dog, and Loghain made a slice of his own, but when Oghren stepped forward he brought his big axe down hard right on the place where the neck joined the head, mere inches from Odd's snout, and cut the snake's head off. Still it was dangerous, for the jaws still snapped and the coils still writhed, but after a few moments the coils loosed their hold of the dog and the head grew still.

Loghain praised Odd, and scratched his ears. "Things might have gone badly for us if you hadn't been here," he said.

"I wouldn't go that far," Oghren said. "Still, he did slow him up nice. Made it an easy kill."

Elilia checked her primer. "Marilith. It made it in. Good. Even though I don't really feel like I was part of that fight. Oghren and Loghain's dog did all the work."

"We all put in the effort a' huntin' this thing down," Oghren said. "If it weren't for the dog we'd all a' been hackin' away at it, maybe for a long time. An' maybe somebody woulda got bit."

"Odd can take his reward out of the meat," Loghain said. "Perhaps its best if the bounty went to Oghren."

"No," Oghren said. "We split it, even Steven, three ways just like we said when we started on this goose chase."

"Oghren, I'm surprised at you. Turning down the offer of twenty-two hundred gil? Think of your reputation," Elilia said.

"I ain't sayin' it wouldn't be _nice," _Oghren said. "Thing is, it wouldn't be _fair_. You gave the beast just as many blows as I did, and we all put in the work. Even if that weren't true, we agreed when we started out that we'd make the split, and I'd be honor-bound to abide by that agreement."

"You are different from the Oghren I knew in Ferelden," Loghain said. "He didn't have much truck with the concept of honor."

Oghren grunted. "Maybe 'e did, an' just didn't like it known," he said. "Makes for a whole mess a' work, honor does."

"I'll agree with you on that," Loghain said.

"Come on, let's skin this beast out so Odd can eat," Elilia said. "That hide will fetch a pretty penny at the market."

"So will the eyes an' the fangs," Oghren said.

"Why the eyes?" Loghain asked.

"Lots a' people still believe that serpent eyes can turn folks to stone," Oghren said. "Lot a' rot, but alchemists still use 'em fer different things. 'Course, alchemists are mostly bonkers, but long as they're payin', Oghren is sellin', know what I mean?"

"Not entirely, since you imbue the words with a significance they don't quite warrant," Loghain said. "Not that I'd care for you to be more explicit."

"Yeah, I don't wanna know, either," Elilia said. "Come on, let's get a move on. Being down here is starting to give me the creeps."

"Lowtown don't seem t' bother you," Oghren said.

"Lowtown isn't crawling with snakes."

They quit the place as quickly as they could, slowed by the fact that they waited for Odd to finish eating the snake. The dog took a savage pleasure in eating the flesh of his foe, and as they walked away, he stopped to urinate on the place where the snake coiled to sleep. Toads and amorphs had moved back into the area during their wait, so they had to fight their way out. Soon enough, however, they stood blinking in the bright sunshine outside.

"I'm glad another sandstorm didn't kick up while we were down there," Elilia said. "Well, now we head back to town and get our bounties, and Loghain, you have to touch the southgate crystal. Oghren, if you want to teleport to Bhujerba you go right ahead. You can go drinking at the Cloudborne and we'll meet you there when our flight lands."

"Sounds good to me. Haven't had any a' that Bhujerban Mhadu in quite awhile."

They walked back to town and located their petitioners. The Sandsea tavernmaster handed over three teleport stones in addition to the sack full of silver, and Balzac's meager purse was supplemented by a silvery ring with a moon-shaped crest and a particularly fine longsword enchanted with a blade as cold as ice. Elilia inspected the sword and tried to hand it over to Loghain.

"You should take this," she said.

"Why?" he asked.

"What do you mean 'why?' You use a longsword, and it's far better than what you're carrying now. That's why."

"We're splitting this bounty. You can't split a longsword without selling it first," he said.

"She's right, Longshanks. Law of the hunter: Found equipment goes to him that needs it. You ain't had that sword of yours long enough to get attached to it," Oghren said.

"This is the kind of blade I would hang on my wall, not use," Loghain said.

"That's ridiculous. It's not a work of art, it's a piece of equipment. Equip it. Maker's ass," Elilia said.

"I don't like fancy blades," Loghain said, a little bit sulkily. "They're for winning off of opponents."

"Andraste's tits, you stubborn man! Take the thrice-damned ass-blasted blue-blazing sword already!" Elilia shoved it into his arms, almost blade-first, and deftly plucked his iron sword from the sheath on his back in the next movement. "We'll split what we can get out of this sword. Shouldn't be a bad price; it hasn't seen much use."

"Give in, Longshanks," Oghren said. "You may be King Shit back where you come from, but you're talking to the Queen."

Loghain sighed and sheathed the blade. "I suppose I am," he said.

"Finally," Elilia said, with an expressive roll of the eyes. "Let's go already. We'll miss the afternoon flight if we dawdle any longer."

They came up from Lowtown via the South Sprawl's massive exit to the southern gate, where Oghren vanished in a flash of light after he placed a stone against the side of the gate crystal. After he was gone, Elilia imperiously commanded Loghain to touch the crystal, so it would remember him.

"You won't be able to get back here tonight if you don't," she said.

He touched the stone, though he felt a little stupid under the gaze of the guard posted nearby. Then Elilia led the way to the western gate, and the aerodrome. Loghain followed her and wondered how he'd come to be pushed around by this slip of a girl. Then he realized that slips of girls, or at least blondes, were always pushing him around. Celia had been gentle about it but she was no less effective for all that. Anora was the master of it. Strange that when Rowan, dark-haired Rowan, pushed him, he only pushed back harder. Of course, that made up his sum total of experience with women. Well, there was Cauthrien, but as a subordinate officer, she did not dare push. That did not stop him from pushing her. Cauthrien was dark-haired, too. It was pure coincidence, but the superstitious side of his nature caught the pattern and held fast to it. Blondes were trouble.

Elilia brought him up to a counter inside the aerodrome and asked the lady who stood behind it for two tickets to Bhujerba.

"You're just in time," the lady said. "We started boarding that flight a few seconds before you got here."

"I knew we were cutting it close," Elilia said.

"Four hundred gil, please," the lady said, and Elilia handed over the coins. Loghain tapped her on the shoulder and tried to hand her two hundred gil.

"I've got it," she said. He offered the coins again. _"I said I've got it."_

He shrugged and put the coins away. Blondes were trouble indeed.

"What about Odd?" he asked. Elilia turned with a questioning look to the lady behind the counter, who peered over at the enormous dog with owl eyes.

"Well, management lets people bring their chocobos on board; I guess he won't be any problem," she said. "You'll probably have to keep him quartered on the deck, though."

"Whatever we have to do," Loghain said.

"The air steward on board the ship will tell you where to put him. You can board right away at the gate."

"This way," Elilia said, and led him through the crowded aerodrome to a long corridor that led to a tall set of stairs. At the top of the stairs, a steward checked their tickets and let them through a narrow gate into another room. At least, Loghain took it for another room. A blonde-haired woman in a steward's uniform met them inside.

"Oh, I will have to ask that you take your animal onto the deck," she said. "Right through that door at the top of the stairs."

"Can I ask?" Elilia said. "How do you bring chocobos onto the ship?"

"Through the cargo doors at the back. There's a ramp leading up to the decks from the cargo bay, so they're free to walk about on deck while we fly," the steward said. "We usually have no problem with people bringing their dogs onto the ship; they can stay right in the cabin. But your dog is very large. I fear he would pose a serious inconvenience to other passengers."

"You should see him fill up the floor of my living room," Elilia said. She led the way up the stairs the steward pointed out.

"We'll have to stay in the cabin during takeoff and landing," she said as she walked. "Which is a pity; I'd love to watch it from the deck. Odd will have a better view than us. But we can stay up here the whole time we're in the air, which is nice."

"Are we actually on the airship right now?" Loghain asked.

"Of course we are."

"It just looks like part of the building. I expected a gangplank at the least."

"Nope, the fuselage butts right up against the gate and you come right into the belly of the beast."

"Foosawhat?" Loghain asked.

"Fuselage. The body of the airship."

"Oh. You know, you could have just said that. Don't forget that until yesterday, I'd not only never been on one of these things before, I'd never so much as dreamed they could exist."

They were on the deck now, but it did not feel like a deck to Loghain. He looked around at the broad expanse of grey metal under his feet. It was not built like a seafaring vessel, not as he knew them. There was a simple guardrail along the edges of the deck, which sloped down from there in a sharp curve. It looked like a dangerous place to stand, but then, there were no waves to wash you overboard in the sky. Still…

"Odd, stay in the middle," he said. He pointed to the middle of the deck. "Stay."

The dog whined, walked to the middle, and lay down.

"Worried he'll fall over the edge?" Elilia said.

"He's a dog. He could well jump if he takes it into his head to do so," Loghain said.

A klaxon sounded. "Oops, time to get below," Elilia said. "We need to find seats in the cabin before takeoff."

"Odd, stay," Loghain said again, and followed Elilia back inside. "I don't like leaving him out there on his own."

"He'll be fine," Elilia said. They found seats in the main cabin and waited for the ship to take off. A second klaxon sounded, the steward checked to be sure everyone was in their seat, and the engines started up, a surge of sound and vibration that startled Loghain. The ship rose into the air, and it felt as though a large hand were on top of him and pressing down. He swallowed and his ears popped.

After a time the ship leveled out, and he no longer felt the great force of gravity on his body. He relaxed, just a little, and the steward announced that the passengers were free to move about or go up on the decks.

"Be sure to stop by the souvenir stands in the Sky Parlor, and have a cold, refreshing drink in our Sky Saloon," she said. She pointed the way to these destinations.

"Come on, I want to show you something," Elilia said, and tugged at his arm. He got up from his chair slowly, as if he were uncertain of his footing. The ship traveled through the air far more smoothly than a ship through water, however, and it seemed unnecessary to develop "sky legs."

He followed Elilia out of the cabin into the Sky Saloon, then into a corridor that led up to the Sky Parlor or to the decks outside, depending on which set of stairs you took. She looked around for observers and then pulled him through an inconspicuous door, which she closed behind them.

It was very dark inside the room beyond the door, and exceedingly close; there was hardly room for the two of them to stand pressed up against each other. "What are we doing in this broom cupboard?" Loghain asked.

"We're ten thousand feet in the air," Elilia said. "Doesn't that…excite you?"

"Not in the way it seems to excite you," he said. "We're not getting frisky in a broom cupboard, if that's what you're thinking."

"Oh come on, just a little quickie."

"Are you out of your mind? Someone could walk in on us at any moment," he said.

"I know. That's part of what makes it so exciting," she said.

"Sorry, my dear, but if you want to be especially wild you'll have to choose another partner. I'm not an exhibitionist."

"Party pooper," Elilia said, but she fumbled for the door and poked her head out. "The coast is clear. Let's go."

They went up to the deck, where they found Odd still laying in the middle of the floor in a state of high tension. Loghain scratched his ears and cursed at him in a low voice, and the dog calmed down. The wind ruffled through his fur in waves.

"Come over here and look at this," Elilia said, as she danced to the rail. Loghain followed with a more sedate step. Odd stood up and followed him.

Loghain stood next to Elilia at the rail and looked out at the horizon. The desert stretched away below them, vast and almost featureless from above.

"Look down," Elilia said, and he did. Far below them and slipping away in the distance was Rabanastre, a toy city from this vantage. Loghain imagined falling from this height, an unpleasant thought.

"I've stood on top of mountains that didn't seem this high," he said. "I don't know that I like the feeling of nothing holding me up."

Odd stuck his head past the rail, looked down, whined, and backed away from the guardrail. He bellied back to the middle of the deck and lay down.

"I love it up here," Elilia said. "The wind, the sky, the earth spread out below me. Someday, I'll have an airship of my own."

"You're welcome to it," Loghain said. He went to crouch down by Odd, and petted him.

"Oh, come on. You have to admit it's beautiful," Elilia said.

"Yes, it's lovely. I can see it as well as I care to from here," Loghain said.

"Do you want to go back inside?"

"Yes," he said. He did not get up.

"Well what's stopping you?" Elilia asked.

"Odd is scared," Loghain said.

"So you'll ride out here all the way to Bhujerba because the dog is a little bit nervous?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Suit yourself. It's no hardship for me," she said, and turned back to the vista with her hands on the rail.

"How many miles away is Bhujerba?" he asked.

"Oh, I don't know. Two hundred and fifty, maybe three hundred," she said.

"Three hundred miles? And we'll be there in an hour?" he said. He shook his head. "Incredible."

Not all the air was smooth, he soon found out. The airship shuddered through a rough patch and Odd pawed at him, put his head in his lap, and whined. Loghain felt a bit like whining himself but he just petted the dog and cursed him low and under his breath. They stayed that way for most of the next hour, until Elilia tugged Loghain to his feet.

"Come on, you have to see this at least," she said. "We're coming up on Bhujerba."

All he could see at first were white clouds, all around the airship. He could reach out and touch them, they were so close. He was a little surprised to find they truly were nothing more than vapor, like the scholars said. Then they came through the cloudbank and he saw it: Dorstonis, the floating continent; a vast archipelago of rock that hung suspended in the sky above the Phon Sea, in perpetual shadow below. On the leading edge of the continent sat a small city sprawled across rolling hills, and above it a palatial estate with great wings of blue crystal that stretched up over it like the ears of some colossal rock rabbit. The walls of the city and of the estate huddled close inside a nest of thick green treetops, quite a welcome sight to the eye after so much endless desert.

"Looks like a pleasant little city, from here," he said.

Elilia laughed. "That's the big reaction? Most people are awestruck by their first view of Bhujerba, you know."

"It's not that pretty," he said. "The trees are nice."

"What does it take to get your heart pounding?" she asked.

"Well, you're pretty good at it," he said.

"Oh don't try and butter me up. I'm still miffed you turned me down."

"I wouldn't have done had the location been a trifle more private," he said.

A steward came up onto the deck, bowed, and called out in a loud, official voice. "Ladies and gentlemen, we will be beginning our descent into the Bhujerba aerodrome shortly. Please return to your seats in the cabin at this juncture. Thank you."

"That means us," Elilia said. Loghain nodded, but before he followed her back inside he stopped to give Odd another reassuring pat and a few choice curses of affection.

"Stay," he said to the dog. "Good boy. We'll be back on the ground in no time." It occurred to him that the ground would be just as up in the air as the airship, but the dog did not need to know that.

The airship docked, and it was with a sense of relief that Loghain set foot on firm ground again, though it niggled at the back of his mind that this firm ground could plummet from the sky at any time. It had not happened heretofore, it was unlikely to happen in the near future. The Bhujerba gate crystal was inside the aerodrome, and he laid his hand on it in passing, the simple action already becoming somewhat natural to him. It gave his frazzled nerves a bit of a boost to recovery.

Odd was happy to be ashore, and wagged his tail and panted gleefully. He sniffed the air of the aerodrome, busy with people debarking from airships or waiting their turn to fly.

"Oghren's waiting for us at the Cloudborne, the big tavern in town. Let's go and have a drink before we start bickering with merchants, eh?" Elilia said.

"Sounds good to me," Loghain said. He followed her out of the building and up the street outside, up a hill to an intersection where a tourist guide and a seller of maps stood vigil. Loghain stopped briefly to barter with the moogle with the maps, and purchased a map of the city and another of the Lhusu mines.

"What do you need those for?" Elilia said. "I know where we're going."

"I like maps," Loghain said. "I had a large collection of maps back home; pure conceit as I knew how to get to every place I cared to visit. I have greater need of maps in this world. Thought I'd start up another collection."

"Maps? That's your thing?" she said, with a note of incredulity in her voice.

"A fine map is a work of art as much as anything," he said. "You should have seen some of the beauties I had."

"Maps," Elilia said, and shrugged. "Good to know."

She started off down the other side of the hill. Loghain tucked his new maps into his satchel and followed her. "Just out of curiosity," he said, "what do they mine at this Lhusu?"

"Magicite, for skystones mostly," Elilia said.

"The stuff that makes the continent float," he said.

"Yeah."

"They…pull it out of the ground?" he said.

"Yes. Is that hard to imagine?" she said.

"I hope they know how much they can safely take before the land drops like a stone ought to do," Loghain said.

"I hope they do, too," she said. She led the way down the next street to a place where men lounged around outside in varying states of drunkenness. Obviously, this was the tavern. They went inside.

"Well, ya made it," Oghren said from the bar. "Wasn't sure whether yer airship wasn't gonna just drop out of the sky on ya."

"That happens?" Loghain said.

"Rarely," Elilia said.

"But it happens," Loghain said.

"Have a drink," she said, and raised a hand to the bartender. "Two, please."

The bartender poured two glasses of red wine from a green bottle. Loghain took his and took a cautious sip, and then put the glass down with a face. "Too sweet."

Every face in the bar turned to look at him. The place went dead silent. "What'd I say?" he asked.

Elilia laughed. "You've committed a mortal sin. The Bhujerbans are very proud of their mhadu."

"Well, they're welcome to keep it," he said.

Elilia drained her glass, and then knocked back his. She paid for both. "If you're done offending the locals, let's check the hunt board. Could be something interesting in these parts."

"More hunting? Woman, don't you ever get enough?" Oghren asked.

"Ask Loghain, if he'll tell you," she said, almost absently, as she walked over to the nearby notice board. "Oo, here's one for a nidhogg down in the mines. That's like a marilith, but smaller. We could take that easy, especially if Odd throws in like he did last time."

"I'm not crawlin' down another hole after no more damned snakes," Oghren said.

"Fine, then I'll split the bounty and the spoils with Loghain," Elilia said. She looked at him. "You up for it?"

"I'm game," he said. "Oghren would probably like another half an hour or so for getting hammered before he has to put a hand to anything resembling work again."

"Exactly. Come on; the petitioner is one of the mine's security people. He'll be waiting somewhere near the entrance, on Lhusu Square."

They found the man who had petitioned the hunt, a blue seeq named Aekom. He told them that the paling, the magical barrier that protected the mine by preventing the spawn of powerful Mist-born fiends from the rich magicite atmosphere, was broken, and a nidhogg had slithered up from the depths to prey upon the miners.

"Until we fix the paling it's too dangerous for our miners to work," Aekom said, "and until we're rid of this snake it's too dangerous to fix the paling. Help a fellow out, _bhadra_. Hunt this monster for me."

"Don't worry, Ser," Elilia said. "We hunt snakes like this all the time."

"She's exaggerating," Loghain said. "Still, we shouldn't have much trouble, I should hope."

"We won't," Elilia said. "We've got a secret weapon. A snake-eating dog."

"As long as he doesn't get bit," Loghain said, and followed her into the mine.

"I've got antidotes," Elilia said, as they walked. "They work on people; they'll work on dogs."

"All right, but you get to make him drink it."

"Nonsense. He'll do it for you, though. He'll do whatever you tell him to do. You tamed him."

"You should tame a dog," Loghain said.

"Why?" she said.

"Because you'd like one."

She shook her head. "Too soon. I'm still in mourning for my Kiveal. I've been thinking about getting a cat, though. I suppose you hate cats."

"You suppose wrongly. I get along well with cats, for the most part. We have similar attitudes, particularly the ones that prefer to be left alone and I."

"Have you ever had a cat?" she asked.

"Not for a pet, though a bond developed with one or two mousers I've worked with over the years. One used to sit on the edge of my desk in the evenings. Just sat there, doing nothing but blinking. Kept me company while I was pulling my hair out over petitions and contracts and court orders."

"What did it look like?" she asked.

"What does it matter?" he asked.

"I just want to be able to picture it, is all," she said.

"Well, it was striped. Black over brown and grey."

"Was this a Gwaren cat or a Denerim cat?"

"Denerim."

"Is it still alive?" she asked.

"Presumably, assuming it survived the darkspawn. Cats are pretty resourceful."

"What was its name?"

"I never asked it."

"Ha ha."

"It didn't have a name, as such. Unless one of the servants named it."

"You'd think you'd give a nightly companion a name."

"I just called it 'you.' As in, 'Hey, you.'"

"A cat named You. I suppose I've heard worse," Elilia said.

"I've given worse. Any animal that runs afoul of me runs the risk of a horrible name."

"Such as?"

"I had a horse named Stew Meat."

"Ew. Why didn't you come up with a horrible name for You?"

"He didn't demand a name. Some animals are content without one. Cats especially, I've found."

They reached the bottom of the mine, and the shaft opened out to their left. The remaining magicite in the walls glowed softly, so there was no need for a lantern to light their way, though it was not as bright as sunstone.

Elilia poked him in the arm. "You've got the map. Where do we go from here? Aekom said he'd seen it last on Oltam Span."

Loghain unfolded his map of the mines. "The path that far seems pretty straightforward," he said. "The shaft runs fairly straight up to that point, and then splits off into different shafts. I'll tell you, if it's crawled back down into the deeper mines we may never find it. The place turns into a labyrinth in the deepest sections."

"I've heard there are gates in these mines. Hopefully some of them are closed off right now, and hopefully they're enough to prevent the snake from escaping. Lead the way."

Loghain studied his map for a few more moments, then folded it and put it away. He jerked his head to the left, where there was a dark opening in the structured wall on that side. "That way. This shaft dead-ends a hundred feet ahead or so, if the map is up to date."

"Judging from the effort they expended in structuralizing this part of the mine, I'd have to think the map is accurate. I don't think they dig around this level much anymore, if at all."

"You're probably right."

They followed the path to where it turned parallel to the original shaft, made a right turn and a jog around a gate the map showed as a solid line across the path. The shaft turned back to join up with the main shaft, which opened to the sky on the sides shortly after they reached it.

"They cut right through the bottom of the continent," Elilia said, as she peered over the edge of the bridge to the sea below. "Nice to know it's so thin, ain't it?"

"Probably only in places," Loghain said. He and Odd both kept well to the middle of the span. "Looks like there's a lot of bats roosting up in the ceiling. Watch your step."

"Don't slip in the bat shit, you mean?" she said, with a laugh. "I don't see any sign of a giant snake here. Let's head deeper into the mine."

He nodded and she rejoined him on the middle of the bridge. He kicked one of the metal rails that ran down the track. "What are these?" he asked.

"Beats me," she said. "Must be some kind of transportation guide, don't you think? They must move tons of rock out of here. Probably in metal wagons that run along these tracks."

_Pulled by what? _he wondered. Oxen? Donkeys? Chocobo birds? Or perhaps the wagons moved along by themselves, propelled by engines of magic stone. An interesting question to ponder, but not at all pertinent to the task at hand. He refocused on their mission.

The snake was easily found, and just about as easily dispatched. The mine closed in around them again at the end of the bridge, and the snake was there, just at the place where the shaft split off in two directions. Odd attacked immediately, and they got to see the scuffle that took place before the big dog got his jaws clamped firmly on the snake's neck behind the head. Elilia drew her sword and scored a slashing strike at the creature's writhing coils.

"I think you should be the one to chop the head off," she said. "I don't want to risk hitting Odd."

Loghain drew his fine new blade, which shone somewhat in the dimness with the frigid glimmer of ice. He aimed carefully, and brought the sword down hard on the snake's neck, inches from Odd's nose. The sword sliced through the flesh and bone with the ease of a knife through butter. Then all that remained was to dress the beast out and let Odd eat his fill.

Loghain stood and watched the dog eat until he felt an urgent tug on his arm. He looked at Elilia, who looked back at him with fire in her eyes.

"Come on," she said, and tugged his arm again.

"Come where?" he asked.

"Back to that bridge. Let's have some fun."

"I don't follow you."

She winked and nudged him with her elbow. "You know what I want," she said. "We're not on an airship, but we're still up in the air, and you can't get much more private than an empty mine."

He was incredulous. "You want to do that? Here? Now?"

"Just a little bounce, and then I'll leave you alone. How about it?"

"What about the bat shit?" he asked.

"I saw clean patches back there. Come on. Come _on."_

The idea seemed ludicrous at first, until he remembered that he'd done it before, in a cave that crawled with darkspawn corruption and giant spiders, no less. Who was he to refuse her? He followed her away from the half-eaten carcass into the somewhat fresher air of the bridge.

It was not as he remembered. There was much more fumbling with armor and clothing, for one thing, and then it was hard to find a place clean enough for them to lie. The stone was uncomfortable and downright painful at times, and several times heads knocked into the steel rails painfully.

"You know what?" Elilia said at last. "This was a bad idea."

He sat up and reached for his trousers. "I don't know why it should be so different. It was just about perfect last time."

"You've done this before?" she asked.

"In the Deep Roads."

"You had sex in the Deep Roads? What were you even doing down there in the first place?" she asked.

"Another time," he said, and pulled his trousers on.

"No no no no no, you can't leave it at that," she said. "I want to know, and I want to know now."

"Pushy, ain't you?" he said. "Things went badly for the army at West Hill, and Maric, Rowan and I had to sneak back to Gwaren via the Deep Roads. With an elf named Katriel who Maric was banging, as Oghren would put it. She was the reason things went badly at West Hill; she was a spy in the employ of Meghren's right-hand mage."

"That's a long story put as succinctly as possible," Elilia said.

"I try," he said. "Put your clothes on and let's get out of this hole."

"Are you upset with me?" she asked.

"Why would I be upset with you?" he said.

"You just sound angry," she said.

"It's not a memory I care to dwell on much," he said. "The past can be upsetting, is all. I'm not angry at you."

She dressed. Loghain whistled to Odd, who came bounding out of the mine until he realized he was back above a drop-off, when he slowed his steps to the point where he was almost mincing. Disturbed by the sound of the whistle, a bat dropped down from the ceiling and attacked. Loghain slew it with his hunting knife.

"Come on; there's probably a whole slue of diseases we've been courting, laying amidst these creatures' offal," he said. He led the way back out of the mine.

Aekom was happy to see them, and happier still to learn his snake infestation had been dealt with. He handed over the bounty along with some advice. "You took the skin, right? Well, instead of selling all of it, take a piece or two, stew it up, and drink it down. Very invigorating!"

Elilia made a face. "Ew. Stewed snakeskin? I think I'll pass."

"Hmph. I wonder if it wouldn't be a help to that sick traveler Dantro's wife is tending," Loghain said.

"Very good for what ails you," Aekom said. "Picks you right up."

"I'll take her some when we get back to Rabanastre," Loghain said. "At the least, it doesn't sound like it could hurt."

"You're doing this as a kindness, right?" Elilia said. "I mean, you're not trying to get into her pants or anything, are you?"

"She's a married woman," Loghain said indignantly. "And I don't require more than one woman at a time, thank you."

"Although there's a thought," Elilia said.

"No there isn't," Loghain said, alarmed. "Let's get back to Oghren before you start getting any funny ideas."

"Too late," she said, and snickered.

They returned to the tavern and collected Oghren, who was staggeringly drunk by this time. They returned to the market street and sold off the pieces of the ring wyrm for a hefty sum, and then they went back to the aerodrome to teleport home. Elilia took a moment to coach Loghain before she disappeared herself.

"You're going to need to hold tight to Odd," she said. "Otherwise he'll get left behind. Just think of Rabanastre, and that's where you'll go. Don't hesitate and start thinking of someplace else or you might end up in pieces in a couple of different places."

"That can happen?" he said.

"No, not that I've ever heard. Just don't try it, all right?"

She teleported away then, and he stood there for a moment and looked doubtfully at the gate crystal. Then he put his arm around Odd's neck, put his teleport stone against the crystal, and closed his eyes. He pictured the Rabanastre gate crystal in his mind, but suddenly changed it. He pictured the Estersand crystal instead, and the world twisted away beneath him.

The world stopped turning and he opened his eyes. He and Odd stood in the tiny South Banks village, whole and healthy, though Odd looked as rattled as Loghain felt. When he had his feet firmly under him again, he walked over to the little round hut by the river and knocked gently on the doorframe.

Dantro's wife poked her head out from under the flap of skin. "Oh, hello. What are you doing back here?" she asked.

"Just thought I'd check and see how he was doing," Loghain said.

"He's much better now, thanks to you. I think with a few days' rest he'll be back on his feet."

Loghain reached into his satchel and pulled out the rolled-up nidhogg skin. "This might help him get back on his feet a little faster," he said. "It's nidhogg skin. I'm told it's a potent restorative."

"Oh, wonderful! Here, let me give you something for this," she said.

"No need," Loghain said.

"Well, thank you. Why don't you come back in a day or so? I'm sure he'd like to thank you himself, once he's up and about."

"Perhaps I'll do that, just to check and see that he's better," Loghain said. "Good day, Madam."

He and Odd made the long walk to Rabanastre. He knew Elilia would likely be waiting for him by the south gate crystal, and likely she'd be angry he'd made her wait and worry, but he couldn't see making the full round trip when there was an easier way to go about it. Perhaps he should have considered her feelings more carefully, but it was done now.

As expected, she was waiting by the south gate crystal when he finally stepped through the gate from the southern plaza. She did not look angry; she looked furious. She caught sight of him and ran to meet him, and slapped him hard across the face.

"Do you have any idea how worried I've been?" she said. "I went back to Bhujerba to see what was keeping you, and you weren't there. Where did you end up? Nalbina?"

"South Banks village," he said, a trifle sheepishly. "I gave Dantro's wife my half of the nidhogg skin."

"You mean you weren't lost? You went to a different gate stone deliberately? You…you…you…you man." She flung his gender at him as though it were the worst epithet she could think up.

"I'm sorry," he said. "It was done before I had the chance to think better of it, and then I didn't have another teleport stone to get here quickly, so I had to walk."

"Well, you owe me two teleport stones," she said. "Come on; let's go to the Clan Hall. I've been kicking around an idea most of the day and I'm just about ready to go into action. You up for one more hunt? It's a big one."

"I suppose," he said. In truth, he felt more ready for his supper, but that could wait.

"Good, 'cause I'll need you."

He was already beginning to feel that she had him, in more ways than one, but she did not need to know that just yet. He would tell her when he knew for certain it was true, and let the chips fall where they may. She would tire of him before long, that was a given, but he would enjoy every moment with her that he was granted, no matter how broken it would leave him in the end. He functioned fairly well with broken pieces. He had done it all his life.

She led and he followed, a pattern of behavior he thought likely to be repeated often in the coming days. He did not mind her "take charge" attitude. It was actually rather nice not to have to be the one in charge of making every decision for a change, particularly in the wake of so many disastrous decisions during the Blight. The position of follower might chafe after awhile, but there was nothing that said he had to follow her to the ends of the earth and back. If he came to love her strongly enough he would probably want to.

She burst into the Clan Hall like a wind off the desert, and before she was fairly through the door she shouted, "Who wants to help Loghain and me take down the Earth Tyrant?"

"Odds Bodkins, woman, I just got sat down!" Oghren said from the stairs.

"Oghren! I thought you'd be at the tavern," Elilia said.

"It was a big score day. Thought I'd do some braggin'," Oghren said. "Now what's this about the Earth Tyrant?"

"Loghain and I are going after it. Come on; one more hunt to make this day legendary. The bounty on that thing comes from the Crown, you know. They pay in gold."

"Yeah, but hunters who've gone up against the Earth Tyrant have paid in blood," Oghren said. "You really think we can handle it?"

"We killed two dragons today! We can handle anything," Elilia said.

"I'm not so sure. I ain't sayin' I won't give it a try, 'cause takin' down the Earth Tyrant would be legendary, but I think we need some more help," Oghren said.

"What's the Earth Tyrant?" Loghain asked.

"Just another dragon," Elilia said.

"_Just another dragon, _she says!" Varric said from the stairs. "Like dragons are easy prey to begin with!"

"I'm not saying it'll be easy, but we can do it. Come on, Varric. What do you say?" Elilia said.

"I say you're crazy, but I'm game. I'll be standing well back of the rest of you, though, that's for sure."

"Is this a flying, fire-breathing dragon, or what?" Loghain asked.

"No, it's like the wild saurian, only bigger," Elilia said.

"Oh. Well, that's not so bad, then."

"Not so bad? The Earth Tyrant has killed dozens of hunters," a yellow bangaa who stood by the wall near the door said. "It'll eat you up and shit you out."

"Sounds like there might be a bit of superstitious dread about this dragon," Loghain said.

"The bounty's gone unclaimed for years," the bangaa said.

"It can't be as bad as the Archdemon," Loghain said.

"Exactly! Come on, Monid, what do you say?" Elilia said, referring to the yellow bangaa by name. "Make one kill, drink on the story for years to come."

"I say it's been nice knowin' ya," Monid said, and laughed unpleasantly.

"Fine, we'll do it with just the four of us, then," Elilia said. "Come on, fellows. Pretty soon we'll all be legends."

"Pretty soon you'll all be dragon shit," Monid said, and laughed again.

"I do kinda feel like I'm setting off to my doom," Varric said.

"Nonsense. Just stick close behind us and keep that crossbow of yours singing," Elilia said.

"Where is this dragon?" Loghain asked.

"In the westersand, trapped in a hollow on the way to the Mosphoran Highwaste," Oghren said. "It's too big to get out through either of the two passages, which has been the city's savin' grace since it manifested years back. But the nearest route to Mosphora's been blocked off ever since, so the Crown would like it handled. The area where it stands is too small to send in the army, so they left it up to us hunters."

"What's to stop it from manifesting again once we've killed it?" Loghain asked.

"The gods. They don't put too many such monsters in this area, thank all that's good and holy. They probably put this one here on a whim. They ain't terrible likely to do it again any time soon."

"Come on, boys, we're wasting daylight," Elilia said. "Let's go get this thing, then grab some supper. My treat."

Loghain thought she had already treated too much for one day, but it was none of his business so he kept silent and followed her out of the clan hall. It felt strange to be going after his third dragon of the day. In Thedas, you spent hours, days even, preparing to go up against just one dragon, and after you'd fought it, if you survived, you spent what remained of the day tending your wounds. Ivalice dragons, what he'd seen of them so far, were more varied but less impressive. They were smaller, seemed incapable of flight even when they had wings, and just generally seemed less intelligent. Thedosian dragons had the spark of a baleful variety of intellect, possibly on par with anything human. Ivalice dragons seemed nothing more than animals. It had to be for the better, and yet somehow it only made him miss home that much more.

Their path led them to the north of the westersand this time, north of the city toward the mountains of Mosphora. Though the weather was clear in the desert, Elilia bade everyone put handkerchiefs over their mouths and noses.

"Supposedly there's been a constant sandstorm in the hollow ever since this thing first appeared," she said.

Wonderful. Fight another dragon in another sandstorm. Oh well. At least they'd picked up some additional support, though he didn't know yet how much good Varric was in a fight. Loghain readied his shield, probably of far more use to him in the coming battle than his fine new blade.

"Everybody ready for this?" Elilia asked, at the entrance to the area now known colloquially as the "wyrm's nest."

"I might suggest you and Oghren work to cripple the beast," Loghain said. "A two-legged dragon with puny forelimbs could be easily downed, and it seems to me a downed dragon is a dead dragon."

"Good idea," Varric said. "I vote we go with that plan."

"What are you going to do?" Elilia asked Loghain.

"Keep the beast's attention as best I can," he said.

"There you go, playing decoy again. You're going to get yourself killed, you know."

"Not today, I think. Come on. As you said, the daylight's wasting, and I'm getting hungry."

"Just be careful you don't end up supper, instead of getting it," she said. She raised her sword and gave out a battle cry only slightly muffled by the handkerchief over the lower half of her face. _"Charge!"_

"Erm, maybe we should enter more cautiously than that?" Varric said. "Nothing against a good old death charge, of course, but maybe not rushing headlong into the jaws of the monster would be a good idea."

"Spoilsport," Elilia said. "All right, cautiously now, charge." And she led the way into the hollow with an exaggerated mincing step.

There _was_ a sandstorm raging in the hollow, fiercer than the one that morning when they faced off against the ring wyrm. Loghain could scarcely see his own shield before him until he angled it enough to block the wind whipping past his face.

"How are we going to fight anything in this?" Varric said. Though he was nearby the sound of his voice was ripped away from their ears so that he sounded far away.

"Quit complaining," Elilia said, similarly distant-sounding. "Just stand back by the entrance and shoot at anything that moves and is larger than one of us."

"I hate to tell you this, but from the entrance I can't see any of you, let alone anything else," Varric said.

"Well, that's because there's nothing else here…yet."

"It's gotta be here. It can't leave this hollow," Oghren said.

"Stinks of dragon in here," Loghain said. "Perhaps it just hasn't heard us yet."

"Maybe it died. Not enough hunters to eat," Varric said. He sounded hopeful.

Just then, the ground shook beneath a giant footfall.

"Here it comes," Loghain said, and braced himself for an attack. The creature roared, and the force of its breath was so great that the sands parted momentarily, allowing a clear view of it. It was a mighty beast, as much as fifty percent larger than the wild saurian, dull grey in color with a great blunt horn on the tip of its massive snout. It came toward them at a trot that shook the earth, and when its snout dipped down to bite Loghain met it with a blow from his shield. It was like striking solid stone, but when he followed it up with a slash of his sword, the ice-cold blade bit in deep to the dragon's hide. Elilia gave out another battle cry and attacked the creature's leg. Oghren hacked away at the one on the other side.

The great, whipping tail was their greatest enemy, while Loghain battled against the teeth. Varric stayed well to the rear and loosed bolts that pierced the dragon's side like ladder rungs. Odd used his teeth on the dragon's legs whenever there was a break in the swing of either sword or axe. Loghain knew it was mostly up to Oghren and Elilia to bring the beast down, but as he slashed away at the creature's gums he fancied at least he was giving it one monster of a toothache. One particularly fierce blow sliced one of the great teeth off at the base, and it dropped into the sand at Loghain's feet. He was careful not to step on it, for he felt positive it could cut a hole right through the sole of his boot.

Loghain heard Elilia scream. Was it triumph or pain? The dragon stumbled, and its precariously balanced body drove it to the ground. Oghren wasted no time in climbing on its back and burying his axe in the creature's skull.

"Take that, you rock-humper!" he shouted. He levered the axe out and brought it down hard again. Loghain abandoned the head end of the beast and ran to where Elilia stood with one hand on her side as she leaned against her lowered sword.

"Are you all right?" he asked. Out of breath, she merely nodded. She took a gasping breath.

"Tail caught me a good one in the ribs," she said, in a strangled voice. "I think there's one or two cracked."

Loghain moved her hand aside and laid his own there. He felt nothing out of place, which was a mercy. Cracked ribs he could possibly do something about. He cast his spell of healing over her, and she brightened immediately.

"Damn, that feels good when it stops hurting," she said. "You really are a pretty good magician."

"Hey lovebirds, this thing ain't dead yet. Could a fella get a little help around here?" Oghren called.

"Whoops, back to the task at hand," Elilia said. She raised her sword again and drove it into the creature's side. Loghain turned back to the dragon and stabbed it repeatedly. Oghren continued to hack away with his axe. They nearly had to begin carving it into portions before at last life abandoned the monster. When it breathed its last, the sandstorm abruptly died out.

"Eerie," Varric said.

Elilia gave out a loud whoop. "Three dragons in a day! We'll be the talk of the town."

"And two giant snakes," Loghain said. "I have to say, I like your work ethic."

"Let's carve this beast out and head back to town," Elilia said. "Drinks and steaks for everybody, eh?"

As he turned to the task of carving up the meat and hide of his third dragon of the day, Loghain had not a thought in his mind that he had just bought himself far more trouble than he'd ever wanted. If he'd known what was coming, he would have left this particular dragon well alone.


End file.
